Stolen
by Rochelle Allison
Summary: He stole her heart, and then he stole her father's fortune. Love and forgiveness are nice concepts, but highly improbable. Right? Drama, romance, action, and a heavy sprinkling of the good stuff.
1. Chapter 1

**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

My window's wide open, the air more balmy than cool. The delicate white sheers hanging from it billow in the breeze, dreamy and soft, as does the mosquito netting around my bed. It's very romantic, all of it, making me wish my room at home was like this.

Outside, across a lawn and down a soft slope of sand, waves crash quietly, pushing and pulling at the shore. Sometimes, when the wind shifts, I can smell the freshness and salt. The tide's come in by now, and I think fleetingly of the sandcastles we built.

You'd teased and then humored me, decorating the castle walls with seaweed and sea glass the same green as your eyes. I'd slipped a couple into my beach bag before leaving, wanting to remember the day, the castles.

You.

In this light, your eyes are almost grey, and the warm tones of your brown-blond hair cooled dark. Between words and kisses you watch me. Your attention makes me giddy-drunk, and though I'm on your lap, inside I'm higher than the highest high. You shift beneath me, your hands a little calloused, and bring me closer in, letting me feel how hard you've become. We have been here for some time: you in my bed, me in your lap. The words have all but been replaced by kisses, and some time between the sun setting and now, we became nearly naked, eager to feel more skin.

The mosquito netting that drapes my bed posts is practical, but it's utterly lovely, too, falling down around us in a gauzy swoop. It feels like we're protected, like as long as we stay right here, nothing else exists. And I don't want anything else to exist. I want to believe that what we have is real, that even when tonight becomes tomorrow and that becomes the next day, we'll have this.

Fingers clasped lightly behind your neck, I pull myself closer still. Your fingertips trail up and down my sides, making me shiver a little, tickled. I'm nervous, in a good way. Anticipating.

Mutually fascinated.

"You're beautiful."

I look at your mouth, your lips. It's you who's beautiful, but I say, "Thank you."

You shake your head slightly, and then come at me with another kiss, angling your mouth against mine so that we fit. Your hands spread over my back, fingertips tracing my shoulder blades and down, rough against smooth, stopping right where my bikini bottoms start. And then back up, warm and welcome.

The purple-grey of dusk darkens into night, and I reach over to turn my bedside lamp on.

In the new light, we stare a each other for just a second before the kissing resumes, and now it intensifies. The sexy, meandering making out of before morphs into something passionate and driven, and I can feel you now, trying to pull back like always.

I'm grateful for what you're trying to do, because I can tell you care about me and respect me, but stopping is not what I want. Without leaving the the hot and sweet of your mouth, I tug the ties holding my bottoms closed. The fabric gives, and I pull it off completely, leaving myself naked in your lap.

You exhale harshly, holding me at arm's length. My heart speeds, and my hands shake, and I'm wondering if you're with me on this, and then you look down. Your breathing picks up.

I slide my fingers through your hair, still rough with salt from the sea. You bring me close again, drawing my nipple into your mouth. You kiss everything you can reach, my ears, shoulders, neck, always coming back to my breasts. I nearly collapse from way it feels, and I can't stop moving against you, craving the feeling.

"Yeah?" you ask eventually, the backs of your knuckles grazing where I'm wet.

I nod, and you manage to get your shorts off, leaving you naked in my bed.

Kissing.

Hold me close, closer.

So close. The only way you could get closer would be to get inside, and you're about to be. Back and forth, you ease me over you, getting you wet with me. You feel so good. This is right; it's what I've wanted. You're close, and then you're pushing inside. It's a struggle, and it's painful, but you break through.

I've done nothing but accommodate you, but I'm panting, my heart racing. Your face is buried in my neck, breath tickling my hair. It hurts when I rock against you now, and you stay my hips with your hands.

"Why?" you ask, breathless. _"Why didn't you tell me?"_

"I don't know," I say. Maybe I thought you could tell. Maybe I didn't want you to say no.

"You should've said something." You're almost pleading, looking up at me.

"Wouldn't have mattered."

"It would have mattered," you insist, looking conflicted. "To me."

"You're all I want."

"You don't know what you want." You say this quietly, and I wonder if you're trying to calm your body down. But I don't want you calm; I want you to burn like me.

"Don't say that...I do know. Love me," I beg, kissing your face. I start to move, wincing a little, and you move with me, slowly, carefully. "I want you to love me. Please..."

Our lips touch, and then our tongues, and it's like you're everywhere.

You hold me so close I can barely breathe, and then you show me what it's really like.

I fall apart in your arms over and over.

* * *

My window's shut tight, but, it's cold for a beach morning.

Shivering, I pull the blankets up, realizing belatedly that I'm not only still naked, but alone.

On the pillow beside me, like a scene from a movie or a book, sits a folded note.

It's inevitable, but I'm crushed.

_Morning without you is a dwindled dawn._

_I hope you can forgive me._

I stare at it for a long while, eyes flying across the script over and over until tears blur the words.

A loud trio of knocks at my door jolts me from my sadness. "Bella?"

I clear my throat, shoving the note beneath my pillow. "Yes?"

"You up, honey? Can I come in?"

"Yes."

Uncle Riley pokes his head in. Behind him, in the hall, there's a flurry of activity: voices, footsteps, walkie talkies.

"What's going on?" I ask.

"You see anything out of the ordinary last night? Anybody hanging out by the beach entrance or something?"

"No, not really," I say, shaking my head. "Did something happen?"

"The safe," he says, sighing loudly. "Somehow someone got in to it last night...or maybe this morning . Took everything."

Nausea seeps through me, and for a moment, I'm afraid I'll actually vomit.

"Charlie's on a rampage, so you might want to avoid him," he continues, oblivious.

I nod, and he leaves, shutting the door behind him. I retrieve the note, reading it one last time before ripping it to shreds.

* * *

***Emily Dickinson**

_**this is what happens when you love books and movies and live half the time in your imagination. ;) this will be like, multi-genre. also, i'm not sure what my posting schedule will be, only that i will post regularly. thanks for reading, guys.**_

_**xoxo**_


	2. Chapter 2

___**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**_

* * *

_Two weeks ago_

* * *

It is so, so hot here.

And muggy. I hate humidity, not just for the mess it makes of my hair, but also because the air's so heavy and wet I might as well be breathing underwater. I suppose it's a small price to pay, though. It's not every day we're living it up in the Sunshine State.

"Fix your face," says Tanya, tucking her hair behind her ears. Her bun keeps coming loose; not even perfect girls like my sister do well in weather like this. "Negativity is unattractive."

"Guess we're lucky there's no one around to see, then."

"_I'm_ around," she snorts, punching my arm lightly. "But seriously. You've been in a funk all morning, baby Bell."

"I know," I sigh, ignoring her stupid nickname. It's her "cute" way of letting me know she thinks I'm being whiny. "I'm sorry. I don't know what it is. Maybe I'm not made for this type of heat."

"Don't be ridiculous. We're in Miami Beach. Everyone's made for this."

I blow my bangs from my face. "Maybe."

"Definitely." Tanya pulls a tank top on over her suit. "Not that we'd know, because we've been indoors for days. We need to be on the beach, already. Let's go."

"Bree said no tan lines..." In four days, our cousin Bree is getting married, and we're bridesmaids. Her stress levels are epic, and she's become demanding and impossible to please, so we've started making ourselves scarce. We're staying in her childhood home, though, so she knows where to find us.

Tanya cocks her head at me. "Right."

I shrug, smirking, because I don't care either. We didn't come all way from Seattle just to avoid the sun. Slipping on a sundress, I follow Tanya out of the bedroom and down the hall of Uncle Marcus' palatial beachside villa.

Back home in Seattle, Daddy's chief of police, and life is good. Really good; Tanya and I have never wanted for anything. The extravagance of _this_ place, though, is mind blowing; it's hard to believe Bree grew up here. Uncle Marcus is a lawyer, and apparently a really successful one - lots of high profile cases. We've always heard whispers that he has a hand in shady dealings, and now there's little doubt in my mind.

I'm not concerned with any of that right now, though, because I'm following my sister through sliding glass doors and into a dream framed by palm trees. The sun is high in a heartbreak blue sky, so golden and bright it blinds. Across the yard, and over a carefully manicured wall of shrubbery, glimmers the Atlantic. Towels and beach bags in hand, we make our way to the shore.

"I should've come to college down here," mutters Tanya, shading her eyes even though she's got on sunglasses. "Damn."

There's public access to the beach a little further up, and most schools are out for summer break, so there's quite a crowd. We wend our way through umbrellas and blankets, picnics and sandcastles, squealing children and frisbee games, the air savory with scent of suntan lotion.

"Tan-tan!" someone yells, right before we're nearly bowled over by an exuberant blonde in a neon green bikini. "I knew it! Knew it was you!"

"Irina," laughs Tanya, hugging her. I glance around, grinning hard when I spy Kate and Rachel, two more of our cousins. Their flight came in just this morning; they didn't waste any time in hitting the beach.

"Did you even stop at your hotel?" I ask, giving Irina a hug.

"Barely. Mom and Dad are there, sleeping off their jet leg." She pulls her white blonde hair into a ponytail. "I can sleep when I'm dead, you know?"

I nod, amused at her pep.

"So what've we missed?" she asks.

"Not a thing. You're lucky you're only now getting in," I mutter. "We've been doing wedding prep for days."

"Ugh, I bet. Aunt Renalda said Bree's being a total bridezilla."

We make our way to the network of blankets the girls've set up nearby, dropping gratefully to the ground. I toss my dress aside and start applying sunblock, nervous that the scorching sun will wreak havoc on my pale skin. Forget tan lines; Bree would kill me if I got a sunburn.

"We've been here since like ten," Irina says, gesturing. "And it's been like this almost all day. Where were you guys?"

"Sleeping in, trying to recover from the past couple days," Tanya snarks, launching into something that happened yesterday with Bree's floral arrangements.

Tucking my flip flops into my bag so they won't get lost, I stretch my legs out and breathe deeply, feeling relaxed for the first time since we got to Florida. Also, the heat's not so obnoxious when coupled with an ocean breeze and minimal clothing.

"Hey, do you want anything to drink?" Rachel asks, grabbing her wallet. "There's a bar a little ways up the beach, but the waiters work the shore, too. They'll bring anything if you tip them enough."

I squint up at her, shrugging. "What're you guys having?"

"Coke," she says, smirking. "I have the rum in my bag."

"Then get me two," Tanya butts in, peeling her shirt off.

I nod. "Yeah, me too."

* * *

I'm not drunk.

I'm not.

Well, all right, I'm a little more than tipsy - but I'm not _quite_ drunk.

We're all feeling a little merry, though.

To everyone's surprise, Bree herself showed up a little while ago. Apparently, her maid of honor, Emily, gave her an ultimatum: get drunk and happy or find another MOH. So that's what she did – and we've had no problem helping out. Between drinks and frolicking in the water, flirting with random guys and several rounds of Mad Libs (courtesy of Kate's iPhone app), it's been a good day.

When lunch time rolls around, Bree insists on ordering lunch for the group, and a pair of pretty-boy waiters from the bar deliver the food right into our laps. Tanya has a thing for one of them, and I'm pretty sure I see her getting – or maybe giving – a phone number.

I can't recall the last time we were all together like this, so it's been fun, soaking up the sun while we chat. Bree's always lived down here, but the rest of us grew up in the greater Seattle area. Sometime back, though, Irina, Kate and Rachel moved with their brothers and parents to Portland. These days, the only times we see them are during the holidays or for family gatherings like this one.

Kate and I are deep in conversation when wet, freezing cold fingers poke viciously at my sides, making me shriek mid-sentence. Whipping around, I find Tanya on her knees behind me, glassy eyed and giggling.

"What?" I laugh, trying to wipe my back.

"I've been calling you for like ten minutes," she gasps, finally getting a grip.

"Don't exaggerate."

"I'm not. Shut up. Anyway, listen - we're leaving soon. Did you want anything else? To drink?" She asks, doing something weird with her eyes.

"Um, no...I'm good." I say, shaking my head.

I'm about to ask if she has sand in her eye when she says, all pushy, "_you sure_?"

Glancing around, I finally clue in. One of the waiters is standing nearby, hands in his pockets, smiling faintly as he waits for us to get it together. I assume his shift has just started, because we've been here all day now and I haven't seen him before.

But he's one of _those _guys.

Dimples and a killer smile.

Sunset hair and sun-kissed skin.

One of the beautiful ones.

"I, okay," I stammer, even though I'm a little light headed. The sun's going down, but it's still really hot, and I've been drinking all day. "Just club soda. With lime. Please."

"And a cherry," Tanya purrs, playing with my hair.

She's so full of shit. I roll my eyes, trying to stifle a laugh. Shaking his head, the waiter chuckles anyway, bright green eyes full of mirth. "Four Cokes, two Sprites, and a club soda with lime. Is that it?"

"That's it," Tanya says, perched like a pin up girl in her indecent red one-piece and matching sunglasses.

"You got it. I'll be right back."

His eyes flicker from Tanya to me, and for a second, it feels like he's checking me out. But then he nods, and turns back down the beach, relaxed and casual like he's not at work... like he's not being flirted with and checked out by half the girls on this beach. I'm trying to force my eyes away when he glances back, just once, and smiles.

Yeah. I'm definitely feeling lightheaded.

Knowing my cousins and Tanya, they'll want to go out later. I'm not opposed to that, but a quick nap at the house would do me good. Grabbing my bag, I start shoving the detritus of the day back inside: phone, cherry Chapstick, waterproof camera, gum...

"You gotta wait til he comes back, Bell," Tanya murmurs.

I look up, caught off guard. "What?"

"I said wait til he comes back with your drink." She swipes my beach bag from me.

"I'm done drinking," I huff. "I'm exhausted."

"You ordered a club soda! And anyway, no one said you had to drink. I just said wait - "

"Why? So I can watch you run game on some guy?"

She makes a face. "I don't even know how we're related. No. Not me, doofus. You. You're the one he was looking at."

Now I'm the one making faces. "Right."

"Rina," she says suddenly. "Wasn't that guy checking Bella out?"

"Who, the guy from the bar?" Irina looks at me, nodding. "Totally. You were too busy geeking out with Kate, though."

I squint down the beach, feeling like a fool because their words have my heart fluttering.

"Bet you'd be blushing if you weren't so sunburnt," Tanya teases, giving my hair a gentle yank.

"Thanks." I brush her off. "As if I didn't already feel like a dork."

"Bella." She's suddenly serious, pushing her sunglasses up so that I can see her pale blue eyes. "You're perfect. And he noticed. So just...stop freaking out and go with it for once."

I can see she means it, and that means something to me.

So I brush my hair back from my face, and I swipe some Chapstick on. I readjust the top of my swimsuit, and the bottom, and then I wait. He reappears eventually with another guy, carrying our drinks in to-go cups. They're talking and laughing like they're close, and maybe not just co-workers.

I try to tell myself he's just a guy. Just a waiter on a beach. He's charming because he has to be; his tips depend on it. He probably flirts with everyone – old, young, male and female. Why wouldn't he?

But then he's in front of me like an mirage in the desert, handing me my club soda. There are plenty of limes inside, and a couple of cherries too, and I can't help but smile. He smiles back, running his fingers through his hair. Tanya pays him, and he thanks her, but then he's looking at me again. I sip at my cold drink, glad for the relief it brings, but inside I'm overheating at how his pretty eyes trail over me. Guess Tanya was right. I get the feeling he might want to say something, too, but then his coworker touches his arm, nodding toward another group that needs attention, and the spell is broken.

"Have a good one, ladies," he says, flashing one last million dollar smile as he walks away. He doesn't turn around this time.

There have been boys.

But never, ever a boy like that.

* * *

_**thanks for reading. ;)**_

_**xoxo**_


	3. Chapter 3

**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

Something tickles at my cheek.

Still mostly asleep, I swat half heartedly at it before turning my face. The tickling continues.

"Stop it, Tanya," I mumble finally, yanking another pillow up and covering my head. It's ripped promptly off, along with the covers.

"Rise and shine," Tanya rasps, her voice sounding as rough as mine. "If I have to be awake, then so do you."

"No, actually I don't," I say, but I sit up anyway, yawning in the bright. All of my windows are wide open, and sunlight pours in. "What's up? Bree call you or something?"

"Bella, it's two o'clock. Daddy wants to know where the hell we went last night." She giggles, tossing herself down next to me. She lives for this; it's high school, all over again.

Sighing inwardly, I think about last night. Once again, I drank too much, trying to keep up with the lushes I call cousins. I didn't get sick, thankfully, but I did "dirty dance" with some hot guy named Nahuel. I vaguely remember Tanya, whose shoe had a broken heel, stumbling up to me, yanking my skirt down, and telling me it was time to go.

"What'd you tell him?"

"The truth – that we hung out with Irina, Rachel and Kate downtown. Dinner, dancing, etc."

I finger the mosquito netting near my head. "Mhm. There was a lot more _et cetera_ than anything else."

"Sure was. You give that guy your number?"

"Who, Nahuel?" I scoff. "Tan, please. I don't even know him."

"You sure looked like you wanted to know him..."

"I was wasted," I say. "Thanks, by the way. I'd forgotten how much you love corrupting me."

Now Tanya's the one scoffing. "You're so full of shit, Baby Bell. You _love_ when I egg you on because you know you'd never do it on your own."

"Well, whatever. I'm taking it easy today. The wedding's in a couple days and I don't want to be all puffy."

"True." Tanya jumps up, nodding toward the door. "Maybe we should just skip meals between now and then. Stick to a liquid diet."

I roll my eyes and get up, stretching. "You'd like that."

"I'd love it. Anyway, let's go. The beach awaits."

I meet my reflection in the mirror, not happy with the sleep-wrinkled face and bird's nest hair. "Give me a minute," I say, grabbing a hairbrush.

My stomach flutters. It has nothing to do with where we went last night, but everything to do with where we're going now.

* * *

Once again, the shore is packed. It's not quite as hot as it was the other day, though, and it's windy, making my hair blow back as we pick our way through the colorful patchwork of towels, looking for a spot.

Tanya stops suddenly, tossing our blanket down. "Here we go."

"Did you talk to Rina today?" I ask, helping her anchor the corners with bags and shoes.

"Yeah. They're going to stay at the hotel today, relax."

"They should," I say. "They've been going, going, going since they got here."

"No kidding," she says, adjusting her sunglasses as she lies down. "I'm a little tired myself, and I slept nearly as long as you."

After slathering on sunscreen, I join her, closing my eyes as I relax. The sultry warmth of the sun, constant breeze, and hum of voices almost makes me sleepy again. When I glance at Tanya a couple of minutes later, I realize she's dozing lightly beneath her oversized sunglasses. Letting my eyes close again, I reach over and rest my hand in the sand, letting it run through my fingers.

"Hi."

Startled, I sit halfway up, leaning on my elbows. It's the waiter from yesterday, and damn if he doesn't look even better today. "Oh, hi."

He smiles. "So, what're we drinking today?"

"We?" I smile, shaking my head. "I doubt _you're_ drinking. And _we_," I gesture between myself and my sleeping sister, "are taking a break today."

"So have a soda."

"I have water," I say, picking up the bottle at my side. "But thank you."

"No problem," he says, shrugging. "Guess you won't need me today, then." He smiles again, and it's this amused, funny little smile, almost like even he realizes how flirty he sounds.

_Good God._ My heart's about to beat out of my chest.

"Well, enjoy the sun," he says after another moment of mutual staring.

"I'll have a club soda," I blurt. "With lime."

"And cherries."

"And cherries. Please."

It's the subtlest shift, but the playful expression he's been sporting darkens into something hungrier. His eyes dart over my body in ways that make me especially aware of how little I'm actually wearing.

I realize: he's not harmless.

Not that I ever thought he was, if I'm being honest with myself.

He licks his bottom lip. "I'll be right back."

* * *

"When did you get that?" Tanya croaks once she wakes long enough to flip over.

There's nothing but ice left in my cup now, and I set it aside, shrugging. "A little while ago." Further down the beach, my waiter and a coworker work the crowd, taking and delivering orders. As if he senses my attention, he glances up, his mouth quirking into a lopsided grin when our eyes meet.

My stomach flips every time.

Tanya follows my line of sight, chuckling quietly. "Ah. Right. The hot tamale from yesterday. How could I forget?"

"I really don't know," I say, flipping on to my stomach, too.

"How many times has he been by to '_check on you_'?" she asks dryly, making air quotes.

"A few times."

She eyes me.

"Okay, maybe like five times," I admit.

Now wide awake, she sits up and looks down the beach again. "Looks like he's with Tyler, too." I squint, assuming Tyler's the guy from yesterday, the one she exchanged numbers with. Before I can stop her, she sticks her fingers in her mouth and whistles.

"Oh, my God," I groan, sinking back onto the blanket.

But the boys appear a minute late, all cocky smiles and expectant faces. "You summoned?" Tyler says, a little closer to Tanya than is probably appropriate.

"I did," she says, flipping her shades up. The girl's got game. I remember back when she was still in high school, when she was a senior and I was a sophomore, she was practically legendary. It wasn't even that she slept around, because she didn't. It was the illusion that she could have, and that she might have, and that if she'd wanted to, she could've had anyone.

Tyler grins down at her. "What can I do for you?"

"I need you to get my back." She tosses him a bottle of sunscreen. It's the biggest cliché there is, but it totally works, and before I know it he's on his knees, massaging her back and shoulders.

The sexual tension between the two of them makes me antsy. I'd leave, but there isn't really anywhere to go, so I instead I sort of angle my body away and stare at the water.

All of sudden my waiter's beside me, sitting so close I can smell him. And he smells really good, like cologne and suntan oil and coconut stuff, all of which which surprises me because it's hot out here and they've been working hard.

"What's your name?" he asks.

"Bella." I swallow and look at him, going no further than his mouth before glancing away.

"I'm Edward."

I nod, biting my lip. Back home, it's easy. I've grown up with a lot of those boys, and people know me. Or they know my father at least. Here, though, I feel like I'm out of my league. I'm racking my brain for something to say when Edward hands me an empty Styrofoam cup.

Frowning, I accept it. He laughs a little, turning it so I can see the message scrawled across the other side.

It's his name, with a phone number right beneath.

My mouth goes dry. I'm still sort of surprised Tanya was right.

He runs his hand through his hair. "I'm not really supposed to..."

I look up, finally meeting his eyes again. Oh God, they're even prettier up close, this light, bright green. "No, I –"

"We could –"

We start and stop talking at the same time, laughing like dorks. It eases some of my anxiety, actually, because he seems so easy going and real despite his perfect face.

After sitting in silence for a beat, he gestures to the cup and says, "I thought we could hang out after my shift some night."

"Yeah," I say, nodding. "Okay."

"You here on vacation?"

"Yeah. For a wedding."

He nods, and then we're quiet for a second. I sneak a peak at him, though, wanting to look at him from this close up. He's got a nice profile; a straight nose and a sharp jaw. No freckles, which is interesting because I get them so easily in the sun. He catches me staring and smiles a little. I think maybe he'll say something else, but Tyler taps his shoulder.

"Got a text. Come on."

Standing, he brushes the sand from his shorts. "So I'll see you around, right?"

I nod, speechless, and they walk away, but not before Edward looks back and mouths, "call me."

"I will," I whisper, shoving the cup into my beach bag. Behind me, Tanya sighs loudly, lost in her own little fantasy.

"Mm. If Tyler can do that in two minutes on the beach, imagine what he can do with a night in my room?"

Grimacing, I toss my water bottle at her.

I don't even want to know.

* * *

Our second night out is way more mellow than the first.

We hit up a couple of lounges and bars, nothing too crazy. Tanya's had a fake ID since she was a freshman in high school, and she made sure to get one for me a few years later when I caught up. We've never really had problems getting in to anyplace, but that doesn't stop the apprehension I feel every single time. It's nerve wracking, and if Daddy knew just what we were up to, he'd lock us up until we were forty.

I battle with calling Edward, whose number I've transferred to my phone. Part of me is desperate to see him, but some of me fears the fantasy might be better than the reality. He seems nice, and his looks are...stunning...but I know nothing about him, and I'm going to be leaving in less than a week. I'm not like Tanya. I don't think it's in me to have casual flings. Not this casual.

In the end I pocket my phone, promising myself I'll just call him after the wedding, when things have calmed down somewhat. I'll probably see him at the beach before then, anyway.

But then, while we're waiting for a cab to go back to Uncle Marcus', Tanya gets a call from Tyler. They chat for a minute before hanging up. Our cab pulls up, and we climb in, quickly giving the driver directions.

"I might meet up with him," Tanya whispers, tugging on her skirt.

"Be careful," I say, sighing. "You don't even know him."

"I know, I know," she says. "But listen, he said Edward was asking about you."

"What?" I gape at her. "Really?"

"Call him," she says, elbowing me.

I stare out at the passing scenery, at the bright lights and shiny buildings giving way to neighborhood streets. I want to call him, I do. I want to hear his voice again, to acknowledge out loud that maybe there's a possibility, that maybe I can have this...this adventure.

But I'm too chicken.

So I don't.

* * *

I don't know what Tanya does or if she stays out late, because soon after getting back to the house I go to bed. I'm still tired, from long beach days and nights out, and nothing appeals more to me than bed.

In the morning, I get up and get dressed earlier than usual. Tanya's still passed out when I go to her, so I close her door and head out by myself. There are a few people on the beach today, but it's not as crowded as it usually is.

The cool of night hasn't burned fully off yet. I walk along the water's edge, wetting my bare feet in the cool water. When the restaurant the boys work at appears, I peek over, wondering if Edward works here every day, and if he does, if he ever works early. My phone vibrates in my pocket. It's a group text from Bree, reminding us all to deal with our nails today. The wedding's tomorrow.

I type back a quick reply and then, catching sight of a sailboat on the horizon, snap a picture. It's beautiful here, and while I'd never move the way Tanya seems to want to, I think I'll miss it when we leave. My stomach growls, reminding me that I skipped breakfast, so I turn and start my way back. A group of children runs by, little boys with handfuls of seaweed chasing after little girls.

The restaurant looks a little more alive now. The tables outside appear to be set up now, shaded by huge, bright umbrellas. I spy a couple more waiters in their dark shirts and light khaki shorts, wiping down tables and putting out condiments.

Edward emerges from inside, his eyes already on mine, like he's been watching me...watching me look for him. I nearly falter in the sand, wondering if I should say something. He pauses, too, and then starts coming toward me.

"Hi."

"Hi, Edward," I say softly.

"Where's your crew?" he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice.

"Asleep, I guess," I say, shrugging.

"So it's just you today, huh?"

"For a while. I'm probably going to go back soon; I haven't had breakfast yet."

"C'mon – I'll get you something."

"Oh," I say, shaking my head. "I don't...what do you guys have this early?"

He chuckles, hair blowing around his face. "Ten's not really that early, Bella."

It's the first time he's said my name, and the little thrill that races through me is uncontrollable.

"I guess not," I say, smiling. "But it feels like it when you're on vacation."

"Come on," he says again, motioning toward the restaurant.

I follow hesitantly, wondering what he's going to give me. I didn't bring my wallet or anything. We walk right up to the outdoor bar, where he pats a stool. "I'll be right back."

"Okay." I glance at the bartender, who smirks back at me. "Hi."

"Hi, there."

Ugh. Biting my lip, I turn my attention back to the water, hoping Edward hurries. I'm not in the mood to be looked over by the smug bastard in front of me, who makes no secret of his perusal. He's handsome, but in an obvious, generic way.

"Here you go," Edward says, reappearing with a two deep, blue bowls. "This is what I have every morning."

"Thank you," I say, the best kind of surprised. It's a fruit salad packed with the good stuff: strawberries, and pineapple, slices of mango and papaya. "This looks amazing."

"It is," he assures me, popping a piece of mango into his mouth. He pulls me down off of the stool with his free hand, and leads the way to a table for two outside. We're the only ones out here, though there are people over on the shore, and it feels private.

"This is...really great. Thank you."

"Anytime."

We smile at each other, again. I don't know what to say. Tanya will, inevitably, freak out when I tell her. She'll love it.

_I love it_.

"So."

I blink; he's polished his fruit salad off. He probably has to get back to work, and I'm sitting here dawdling. Quickly, I spear a piece of pineapple into my mouth, savoring the lusciously intense sweetness.

"Why don't you give me your number?" he says, pulling a pen, seemingly, from mid-air. "That way, I can call you." He cocks his head. "Since you won't call me."

"I'm sorry," I whisper, knowing I'm blushing.

He grins crookedly, handing me the pen and his order pad.

I accept both, writing my name and number neatly in a corner, my heart beating like a drum.

* * *

_**thank you for reading.**_

_**xo**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**_

* * *

It's late when he calls.

Because the wedding's tomorrow, it was decided pretty unanimously among the girls that we'd stay in tonight. Our nails are done, and I'm feeling relaxed from the impromptu spa day Bree gave us for being "so tolerant" of her pre-wedding jitters.

My mellow dissipates the second I see his number pop up on my phone as '_E'_.

Glancing furtively at Tanya, I ease up off the couch and slip down the hall. "Hello?"

"Hi, Bella? It's Edward."

"Hey. I didn't think you'd call."

"Sorry, we just finished cleaning up."

I frown at the clock on the wall. "It's almost midnight."

"I work for a catering company as well," he explains. "Sometimes we're out late."

I feel oddly guilty. Beside the part time job I had at the mall during high school, I've never really had to work. Not like that. I wonder - "how old are you?"

His laugh is muffled, but I can see him in my mind's eye. Smiling, chill. Gorgeous.

"I'm nineteen. Why? How old are you?"

"I'll be nineteen in September." I go to my room and shut the door.

"Hm. Anyway, I know it's too late to go out tonight, but I wanted to call. Say hi."

My chest tightens, and I swallow. "That's cool."

There are voices in the background on his end, and laughter. He says something to someone else, and then clears his throat. "Listen, I have to go, but...are you busy tomorrow?"

"The wedding's tomorrow; I don't know how late it's going to go." My stomach twists; I'm always brushing him off when all I want is to see him. I can't even deny it to myself anymore. "But can I call you?"

"I don't know – can you?" he teases.

"I really will call this time," I promise, noticing my reflection as I pass a mirror on the wall. I'm flushed and smiling. Giddy.

"Then yeah, do that."

"I will. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Sounds good. Bye, Bella."

We hang up, and I toss my phone onto the bed. Tanya pokes her head in, yawning. "I think I'm going to hit the sack."

"Me too." I nod, breathing through the butterflies left over from Edward's phone call. "I'm tired."

"Tomorrow's gonna be a long day." She rolls her eyes as she loosens her ponytail. "God help us all."

* * *

In the morning, we're woken up by another group text from Bree. We rush through showers and getting dressed before heading downstairs, where my father, Uncle Marcus, and Uncle Riley are sitting around having coffee and bagels. The men, including Michael and his groomsmen, are getting ready here while the girls will be at Bree's apartment, so we're on our way out. Tanya and I have already made sure we have everything we'll need, so we won't have to come back until after the wedding.

Daddy smiles affectionately at us, offering his cheek for kisses. "Morning, girls."

"Morning, Daddy," Tanya says, giving him, and then our uncles, quick hugs. I follow suit, bestowing hugs and kisses on everyone before going for the strongest coffee I can manage.

All of the Swan men are handsome, but my father is by far the best looking. I know I'm biased, but it's true. Part of me has always wondered why he never got remarried (though he's far from celibate, something I ignore because it grosses me out), but mostly I'm glad there's no one to compete with for his attention besides Tanya. We've always been Charlie's little girls, and he's always been our number one.

Mom left when we were tiny. Left, as in, she died of pancreatic cancer. It's not something I obsess over – I was two when she passed away, but every once in a while this sense of unfairness hits me all over again, and I wonder _why?_ She died so young, and missed so much: birthdays, graduations, events like this wedding. Tanya remembers a little bit more about her than I do, but barely.

Being part of a huge, tight knit, Irish American family meant that Daddy always had plenty of support, though. We may not have had a mother, but we had grandparents, uncles, aunts and cousins by the dozen. I love my family, and I love that despite the years and distance, we've managed to remain close.

"Charlie's angels," Uncle Marcus says, smiling indulgently around an unlit cigar as he watches us bustle around the kitchen. He's been calling us that since back in the day.

"That's so corny," Tanya laughs, giving his ear a tug before stealing the cream cheese from beside his plate.

"And yet, so accurate," he insists. "All of you girls. Angels. I can't believe I have to give mine away today." He chokes up a little, yanking the cigar from his mouth. "This is bullshit."

Daddy shakes his head, chuckling. "All right, all right. No more whiskey in the coffee, Marc."

"How else am I supposed to make it through today? Put yourself in my shoes, Charlie. Imagine Tanya marrying some punk ass kid. Or imagine Bella, God forbid."

I'm guessing his penchant for melodrama serves him well in the courtroom.

"Not Bella," Uncle Riley says, ruffling my hair as he passes. "She's a good girl. She'll find a nice guy."

"But not me? Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence," snarks Tanya, rolling her eyes. "You ready to go, Bell?"

"Yup." I grab another bagel and a bottle of juice just in case. And then, because I love Uncle Marcus despite his histrionics, I drop down and give him another hug. "You'll be okay. _She'll_ be okay. Michael's a good guy."

He grunts, and the cigar goes back into his mouth.

* * *

The worst appears to be over.

I think.

Well, we still have to get through the reception, but Bree and Michael are now officially married.

I'm waiting with my sister, our cousins, and the rest of the bridal party in the limo. After being ceremoniously introduced to the guests (all five hundred of them), the real party will start. It's been an absolutely insane day, from floral mishaps to Bree's hair coming loose to lost (and then found) rings, but we managed to pull it all off in the end.

When I get married..._if_ I ever get married...I'm eloping. Or, at least, having something very small and intimate. This is just too much.

And yet, seeing how googly eyed and ecstatic the newlyweds are, I get it. Maybe it was all worth it.

We down the last of the champagne and then spill out into the afternoon, paired with groomsmen as we enter the Trump International Beach Resort. Opulent doesn't even begin to describe this venue. It's trendy yet classic: the best of the best.

After a brief cocktail hour, dancing, toasts and slideshows, it's time for the sit down dinner. I take a sip of water and glance around, impressed all over again at the details of the elegant beach theme. I just hope Bree's able to actually enjoy it.

I'm looking through my phone, scrolling through the day's pictures, when I hear a familiar voice.

"Good evening. Will you be having the salmon, filet mignon, or chicken marsala?"

I gape up at Edward, whose smug expression tells me he saw me way before I saw him. "You...you're working here?"

He nods, and for once, he doesn't fidget or run his hand through his hair. He can't; it's smoothed back. And he's wearing a tuxedo with a vest and a bow tie. _Holy shit. _Cabana beach boy Edward has nothing on formal waiter Edward.

A sharp pinch brings me to my senses. Gasping a little, I rub my arm and glare at Tanya.

"What?"

"Oh, you know what," she says tartly. "Go ahead and order. You can ogle him later."

Mortified, I turn back to Edward, although I can't quite look him in the eye. I know he heard her, and while he must know by now that I like him, being called out like that sucks. "The salmon, please," I murmur.

"Of course." He doesn't hesitate, just continues on to the person beside me, asking them the same question. I slump in my chair, both annoyed at Tanya's tactlessness, and embarrassed at my own uncouth behavior.

Before moving onto the next table, though, Edward catches my eye.

_You're beautiful_, he mouths.

* * *

Capping my lipstick, I take one last look in the mirror. I've used the bathroom. Dabbed a bit of perfume behind my ears. My make up has been refreshed, my hair tidied.

It's nearly midnight, and the party's finally winding down. People have been trickling out for the past half hour or so, and the DJ is on his very last song. Tanya's been texting Tyler, and The Cousins are already on the prowl, scoping out waiters and sexy, single guys to play with. They leave sometime tomorrow, so they're determined to make the most of their last night.

Though we haven't really spoken again, Edward's had his eyes on me all night. I know because I've had _my_ eyes on _him_ all night. There's no doubt we're hanging out after this is over. Besides, knowing my sister, she's already secured plans with Tyler, and he and Edward seem close. I'm glad that no matter what, I'll have Tanya with me tonight. I don't trust myself around Edward, and I don't know if I can trust him yet, either.

I want to, though.

A group of younger girls push their way into the bathroom, giggling and gossiping loudly. I slip back out in to the hall, wondering where Edward is now, and if he'll have to stay late to clean up.

After reconvening with Tanya and the girls, and after convincing our parents we'll be fine and not to expect us home anytime soon, we escape outside. There's a lot going on; it's Saturday night in Miami, and everyone wants to know where the party's going to be.

Sure enough, Edward's there with his friends, jacket gone, tie loosened, hair starting to rebel back to its default messiness. We break away from our groups, drawn to each other.

"So, I still can't believe you were working here tonight," I say, coming to a stop. "Seems like you're always waiting on me."

"Seems like," he comes closer, enough so that he has me against a wall without ever having touched me, "I am. Always waiting on you." He plays with the words, meaning something entirely different than what I intended, but he's right.

He is always waiting on me.

For me.

We stare at each other. The din of the reception starts to fade. I clutch at my purse, trying to ground myself, especially when I feel him tug at the hem of my rather short bridesmaid's dress. It's a sweet-sexy little confection of a frock, all cream ruffles and satin ribbons.

"This is pretty," he says.

"Thanks." I shrug. "My cousin chose it."

"She has good taste."

"I think you're quite the charmer," I say quietly, gazing into those gem-like green eyes. I know it, and yet I feel myself becoming ensnared anyway.

He smiles, nodding slowly as he moves his hands so that they're safely behind his back. "Maybe, but I usually mean what I say."

Heart in my throat, I reach out and tug his hands loose. And then I grab one. I don't know what I'm doing. I feel like if I don't touch him the ache will consume me, and if I do, then my nerves will.

But he takes it in stride, linking our fingers as he pulls me away from the wall.

It's the first time we've made true, intentional physical contact, and it feels so major. Like we've made this leap from "maybe" to "definitely". I'm still not sure I should even be doing this, but it feels right – like it was just a matter of time. Like no matter how long I resisted, I'd have ended up in the same place.

So why resist?

From the corner of my eye I notice Tanya noticing us, and I just know she's telling our cousins. I can't even look at them; they'll be way too excited for me and I'm trying to hang on to any last vestiges of cool I have.

I can only look at Edward, who has this push and pull down to a science.

He leans a little closer, and his lips brush my ear. "I'm parked a street down. Do you want to come with me?"

"You're all done with work?" I ask, even though it's obvious he must be if he's already outside.

"All done."

I'll have to tell Tanya what I'm doing, because she'll want to come along with Tyler, but...

"Okay."


	5. Chapter 5

___**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**_

* * *

To her credit, Tanya's convincingly nonchalant when I make my way over to her. She pretends not to see Edward trailing behind me, his hand and mine clasped tightly.

"Hey, so...I think I'm gonna go. With Edward."

She nods, glancing impassively at him. I can see hints of Mama Bear lurking around in her otherwise cool expression, but she won't act on it. I know she'll be keeping an eye on me, though. It's both endearing and irritating. "Okay. Tyler said he was on his way, so..."

"Yeah." Edward gestures toward the sidewalk behind her. "He's right there."

"We'll stick together, though, right?" Tanya says in a low voice, mostly to me.

I shrug, which earns narrowed eyes, and then nod. Whatever. I can't say I blame her. We really don't know these guys, and the buddy system just makes sense. It always has, although I don't know what she plans to do when I'm in college. For now, though, it's all right.

And anyway, she's no killjoy. She's been pushing me toward Edward since day one, and I know for sure we're on the same page when she winks at me as Tyler catches up to us. He swoops down, playfully biting her neck in greeting, making me wonder how far they've actually gone.

The noise level escalates as a dozen different conversations buzz around us, rumors of nearby parties and potential plans bouncing back and forth. Edward never lets go of my hand once, and when our group starts to move, he pulls me even closer, his arm now around my waist. Prickly-hot with nervous excitement and attraction, I slide my arm around him, too. I love the way he smells, and how his body feels like it fits against mine. I love the feeling of belonging, like in this sliver of time and space we're a unit, like the universe rearranged itself so that we could have this handful of moments.

I try to keep in mind that it's temporary, that in less than a week's time I'll go my way and he'll go his, but that just makes it feel even more precious.

Tyler is double parked next to Edward. He's super cocky, but he's also full of jokes and silliness, which is why I like him. In fact, he's an ideal match for Tanya, who can be a little full of herself as well. Irina, Kate and Rachel ride with them, piling into the backseat of Tyler's SUV, but Edward and I are alone in another car, a silver sedan.

"Is this yours?" I ask, looking around.

"Yes," he says, amused.

"It's nice."

"Why, what do you drive?"

"An old, red pick up."

"Yeah, right," he snorts, watching me fasten my seatbelt.

"I'm serious!"

"I can't imagine that," he says, shaking his head. "You all set?"

I nod, smiling back. In agreeing to spend the rest of the night together, it's like this weight's been lifted, like I'm free to act the way I feel. No more games, no more evasiveness.

He connects his iPod to the stereo, turns the volume up, checks his mirrors, and pulls out behind Tyler.

* * *

We end up at a colossal beach house across town. As we pull up to the wrought iron gates, Tyler jabs a code into the keypad and then texts it to Edward so we can follow. Edward says Tyler's tight with the kid throwing the party, that they went to high school together.

"Did you grow up around here, too?" I ask.

He shakes his head, leaning out the window to press the keypad.

Other than the cars parked out front, and the occasional laugh or voice, one would never know that a party was going on inside. Once we walk through the doors, though, we're met by loud music – indie electronica or something – and a ton of people.

This house is nothing like Uncle Marcus' McMansion. Whereas his feels kind of new, this one has an older, more distinguished feel, like the owners come from old money. No pretentious art or living rooms that look like they came straight out of a magazine; everything looks like it's unique and cherished, like it has history. There are several floors and countless rooms, each one packed with people indulging in different vices and pleasures.

There's even an indoor swimming pool, steam rising from its depths as partygoers splash around, their whoops and hollers echoing off the ceiling.

Tyler knows a lot of people. Edward seems to keep to himself a little more, but I notice people notice him anyway. Girls, especially. I'm sure our handholding is inconsequential; these days people have no problem making moves regardless. If they got him alone, and he was game, that would be that. And then there are the ones, girls and guys, that would gladly take us both. I can see it in their eyes.

I'm not as experienced as Tanya when it comes to this scene, but she's told me things. And I've been to parties - Seattle has a scene all its own. Still, I've never been to a party quite like this, and never with someone like Edward. This feels crazy and reckless and wide open, like the possibilities are endless. It's unnerving, but it's exhilarating.

Eventually Edward's hand tightens around mine, bringing my wandering attention back to him. "You want a beer or something?"

"Sure."

He and Tyler grab a handful of bottles from an outdoor fridge and we head out to one of the lanais, where there are couches and tables set up with ashtrays, empty bottles, and an abandoned game of dominoes. I end up between Edward and Irina, who's linked up with the groomsman she was paired up with earlier.

Edward turns so that he's slightly facing me. "So. Bella Swan. Were you _really_ going to call tonight?" he asks, all frowns and exaggerated sternness.

"How'd you know my last name?" I giggle.

"Ty told me. Stop deflecting."

"I was gonna call, actually." I side eye him. "But then you popped up and I didn't have to..."

"How convenient for you."

"I thought so," I joke, sipping my beer. "You wouldn't have gotten off until late again anyway, though."

"Yeah, but I was still going to try and see you."

The bluntness of his admission makes my stomach flip.

"When do you go back again?" he asks suddenly.

"To Seattle?" I mirror the way he's sitting, turning a little and tugging my dress down. "I'm not sure yet."

He wrinkles his brow. "You have an open ticket or something?"

"Something like that. I start school in August, so...this summer has been kind of like...my graduation gift. Tanya and I went to Disneyworld for a couple of days before this, and we were considering going to Key West after leaving here."

"Wow." He sits back a little. "Must be nice."

"It is," I agree. "I mean, it's not always like this. We're not like...loaded or anything." I don't know why I feel the need to clarify this. I guess I just don't want him thinking I'm a rich brat. "My aunt and uncle have friends in the Keys, so they offered to put us up."

"So when do you leave?"

"Two days," I say. For the first time, the thought of leaving Miami bums me out.

His face falls slightly, but evens out so quickly it's as if I've imagined it. "So I have two days."

"Two days to what?"

His fingers brush the outside of my thigh, raising goosebumps. "Two days to whatever."

My gaze falls to his mouth, and I wish more than anything we were alone. "Maybe I'll stay longer."

* * *

By three in the morning, most of the crowd is gone. The frantic energy of before has relaxed into a smolder, and the people who are still here are in smaller, quieter groups of discussion and smoke.

We're still holding court on the lanai, and there's no one left on the couch but Edward and me. After exploring some of the other rooms earlier and then dancing for a minute right in the crush of the rowdiest revelers, we ended up here again, talking.

It's weird: our conversation has flown effortlessly as if we've known each other for years. This surprises me initially, because Edward's made me incredibly nervous since our first encounter. But he's so straight forward and easy going that I find my apprehensions melting away. We talk a lot about the stuff we're reading, movies, and music. He's been to way more concerts than I have, even ones that would have been on school nights, and when I ask how he got away with that, he explains that he and his brothers were home schooled. He plays the guitar and the piano too, he says, but it's been awhile.

"Homeschool? Your whole life?" I ask.

"From eighth grade on up."

"Did you graduate just this year, then?"

He shakes his head. "A year ago. We each went at our own pace...my older brother finished the same time I did, even though he could have – or should have - finished a year before that."

"But you didn't grow up here?"

He shakes his head. "From all over. We've always traveled a lot."

"Is your brother in Miami now?"

"For the time being."

Sometimes I get the impression he's being purposely vague. "Are you the secretive type?" I ask, fighting a yawn.

"I can be." He smirks, stroking my arm with his index finger. "You're falling asleep."

"I know; I'm sorry. It's been a long couple of days."

"I can bring you home, if you'd like."

"No." I sit up, shaking my head. "I'm not ready to go home. Just, wake me up."

Standing, he offers his hand. I take it, glancing over to where my sister is half draped over Tyler on a chaise lounge, whispering and kissing. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she genuinely liked him.

And maybe she does; who knows?

"I'm going for a walk, Tan," I say, tapping her as we pass.

She barely looks up, patting my hand absently.

From the lanai, a screen door leads to a set of outdoor stairs. We make our way down to the beach, where I slip my shoes off and carry them, wanting to feel the sand between my toes. A temperate wind blows gently, rustling the palm trees. It's not at all cold. I'm glad; I love the feeling of the fresh, salty air on my skin.

"Better?" Edward asks, standing beside me as I gaze out at the endlessly black ocean.

"Much. It feels good out here."

"Yeah, it does. I never get tired of being by the water."

"Me neither." I tuck a few loose strands of hair behind my ears. "Although... it's much different here than what I'm used to."

"What are you used to?"

"Seattle. It's chillier. And it rains a lot, although, not quite as much as people think it does."

"Did you grow up there?"

"Yeah. Have you ever been?"

"Once or twice."

I don't ask him to expound. Instead, I close my eyes as he trails his fingertips over my bare shoulder and down my arm. It's deceptively simple, but it lights me up inside, kindling me with the desire to be touched everywhere else. He pauses and I look at him, wondering what he's thinking. Moonlight and shadows play across his face, illuminating and then hiding his features.

So, the cosmos have aligned and it's come to this: standing on a beach alone with a boy I hardly know, but would give myself to in a second. Why? Because everyone else has paled in comparison.

I mean, I know what it's like to want. I've seen guys I was attracted to, been with them. I've played the games of chase, been caught, been dumped. I've been the dumper. I've kissed and been kissed, liked, and un-liked, wished and wanted and gotten over and hated. But have I ever wanted this poignantly? No.

He gazes back for a moment before pulling me to stand in front of him, resting his hands on my hips. For the longest time he just stares, and I let him, because I get to stare at him, too.

"Tell me the truth," I begin, raising my voice a little so he can hear me over the waves.

He smiles tentatively, looking almost nervous at my words, so I continue quickly.

"Did you know, when you took the job today, that it would be my cousin's wedding?" I ask, working off of a hunch.

His almost-tense expression melts into a grin. "The whole truth? Yeah, I knew."

"Is that," I hesitate, feeling awkward. "Is that why you took it?"

"What do you think?" he teases.

"Can you ever give me straight answers?" I tease back, poking his belly.

Splaying his fingers across my back, he brings me closer so we're pressed lightly together. The full body contact makes my heart go nuts all over again, especially when he lowers his mouth to my ear. "We know a lot of people around here, so it was easy to figure out which company the hotel had hired to work the wedding. I figured it would be a good way to see you tonight, and I was right."

His admission makes me ridiculously happy. I nod, sniffing surreptitiously at his shirt, which smells faintly of cologne, and something minty, like gum.

He tucks his hand beneath my chin and tilts my face to his, but before he can kiss me I decide to mess with him. I shove him lightly, making him stumble in surprise.

"What's up?" he laughs, not even affected as he steps toward me again. Confidence like his is off putting in some guys, but with him it's infectiously appealing.

I spin just out of his touch, shaking my head as I smile back.

"Oh, okay. I get it." He nods, crackling his knuckles. "So now you're _literally _playing hard to get. Right?"

He lunges for me, but I dart away again, this time jogging a little ways down the beach. Unfortunately for me, things like this give me the giggles, and that slows me down as I run. Edward catches up to me in seconds and sweeps me off of my feet, smoothly easing me into his arms like he's saving my life.

"Girls like to be chased," he says, matter of fact.

"And caught," I agree, giving him a little kiss on the cheek.

Something like wistfulness passes over his face, and he blinks slowly.

"You don't have to carry me all the way to the house," I say. "I have to go back for my shoes anyway. I dropped them in the sand..."

"I have your shoes," he says, wiggling his fingers. I look down to see the straps of my heels dangling from his finger.

"Oh," I breathe. "Thanks."

The beach house appears just ahead, and Edward puts me down, allowing me straighten my dress and hair before we proceed inside. We've been outside for a while, and I wonder what time it is. I take my shoes from him and brush the sand from my feet. Upstairs, soft music floats from the open windows and porches.

I'm debating whether or not to put my shoes back on when Edward touches my arm again, kind of like he did back on the beach. His fingertips tickle a trail from my shoulder to the inside of my wrist, and I shiver, looking up at him.

He looks almost uncertain.

"Edward?"

"You're different than what I expected," he says.

"Is that...good?"

"Yeah, it's good. You're, I don't know. Much more than I thought."

"Much more than what? Some girl on the beach?" I wrinkle my nose, even though I'm beginning to feel the same way about him. There's a lot going on behind that perfect face, and sometimes his eyes tell stories all their own.

"Way more. And, just...I like you."

"I like you too." So simple, but it's like puzzle pieces falling into place. With a jolt, I remember how limited our time is. Leaving him in a few days is going to hurt.

There's no gentle introductory kiss. He comes in swift and I'm ready, lips parted to receive. Kissing is always kind of startling, especially when it's been awhile, and this is no exception. His tongue touches mine, sweeping through my mouth, letting me taste him. He feels so good I shake, so he holds me closer, smoothing his hands up and down my back. Our faces tilt, mouths fit, tongues moving together in this hot, wet way that really, really gets me going. Rising to my tiptoes, I link my fingers around his neck and pull our bodies close.

We kiss that way for a minute, lips and tongues and wandering hands. With the waves crashing and the moonlight softly bright, I feel like I'm in a dream. A really sexy dream. This might be the most romantic, and arousing, thing that's ever happened to me. I kind of want to hoist myself up and wrap my legs around him. Luckily, despite his flirtatiousness, Edward seems to be a gentleman, and his hands never slide lower than the base of my back.

Eventually...reluctantly...I break away, motioning upstairs. "We should maybe check on them."

The lanai we were hanging out on earlier has been deserted. Frowning, I check my phone, but there aren't any messages from Tanya. It's not like she'd leave, though. I text her, wondering where they disappeared off to.

"They're in the pool," Edward says suddenly, holding up his phone. "Tyler messaged me awhile ago; guess I was too... distracted to hear it." He bites his lip, looking a little deviously at me.

His implication makes my face warm. I turn, sliding my phone back into my purse.

There's an unopened bottle of water sitting on the table. I open it, and then drink about half before wordlessly offering it to Edward, who finishes it. "Did you want to go find them?" he asks, putting the empty bottle away.

"Not really."

He narrows his eyes and stalks toward me. "Then what do you want to do?"

I move closer. "Be with you."

My words are so naked I shiver. He tugs me to the couch, and we fall back on to it. Instead of letting me stay beside him, though, he pulls me to his lap, a move so intimate that I'm startled. I don't know why. It's obvious we're moving in that direction. I yank my dress down, not wanting it to bunch up around my thighs any more than it already has.

"Sorry," he says, not really sounding sorry, and readjusts me so that I'm sitting sideways.

"You've gotta work up to that," I say, kissing his mouth very softly.

"You're right," he whispers, kissing back.

His hand goes up into my hair, where he encounters all of the bobby pins the hairstylist used for my up-do. One by one he plucks them out until he can massage his fingers through my hair. It feels unbelievably good. I run my fingers through his hair, too, surprised at how soft it is.

We kiss until the sky starts to blush pink. I've never seen the sun rise over the water. It's achingly beautiful, soft and vivid all at once. My eyes burn from tiredness, and from trying not to blink lest I miss a second of this moment.

Edward nips at my neck, stealing my attention. I moan quietly as he sucks, sleepy and turned on. "Don't leave a mark," I plead half heartedly, trying to be sensible through the lusty haze.

"Too late," he says, kissing the bruise.

* * *

_**thank you for reading, and for reviewing. i always, always love hearing what you have to say. i love the questions and theories, even though i can't yet address them. ;)**_

_**a few things: **_

_**- yes, there will be EPOV**_

_**- the story will continue on through the prologue (1st chapter) and then beyond**_

_**xoxo**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**_

* * *

When it comes to Uncle Marcus' house, the showers might be my favorite part (...and maybe the mosquito netting around my bed - lovely and totally unnecessary). Hot water pounds over my face and shoulders, helping alleviate my grogginess. One would think that, sleeping until noon, I'd be rested...but Tan and I didn't get in until eight a.m.

So I'm tired, but I'm thinking about Edward, who makes me forget all else. I'm reliving his mouth on mine, his hands, and how they hold me without wandering into naughty zones. I see those gorgeous eyes – they were pale green this morning, like shallow water at the beach – and I feel how they cut right through me.

After working conditioner and a comb through my tangled hair, I turn the water off and get out. Once I'm dry, I swipe my hand over the foggy mirror, zeroing in on the hickey Edward left.

My heart stutters and squeezes just thinking about him doing it.

I'm so caught up in thoughts of Edward that I almost don't hear Tanya coming in to my room. She freezes when she sees me applying makeup to my neck.

"You can't be serious," she snickers, probably thrilled that for once I'm the one doing questionable things.

"Shush," I murmur, dabbing lightly at my skin. It's better, but not concealed enough. "Do you have anything heavier?"

"Yeah. Hold on." Disappearing for a moment, she comes back with her make up bag, which she dumps all over my unmade bed. "Here. Let me just..." She quickly applies the cover-up, making sure to rub it in so it blends naturally. "'Kay. Perfect. He'll never know."

I know she means Daddy. After seeing him briefly this morning as we trudged upstairs to fall into bed, we both got the impression that he disapproved of our party girl antics.

Peering into a little handheld mirror, I'm relieved to see that the hickey is invisible. "Thanks."

"No prob." She plops down on the bed. "So. Tyler is working the afternoon shift. Gets off at like seven or something."

"So what're you going to do all day?" I tease, sweeping my hair into a ponytail.

"Hang with you, obviously," she laughs, tossing a throw pillow at me. "If you're not, like, attached at the lips to Edward, I mean."

I make a face, but her words alone conjure up all sorts of delicious images and feelings. I wish I could be attached to Edward's mouth, and maybe everything else, all day. Which reminds me...

"So, I don't think I'm going to go to the Keys," I blurt, biting my lip anxiously.

"What?" Tanya scowls. "Because of _that guy_?"

"Oh, so now he's _that guy_?" I roll my eyes. "Yes, partly because of Edward but partly because I like it here."

"Because of Edward." She stands up. "You like it here _because_ of Edward."

"Fine, because of him. I like him, okay? You're the one who pushed me on him..."

"He would have gotten to you regardless." She scoffs. "I just helped things along."

"Whatever." I pull a clean tank top from the closet and slip it on over my bra. "The point is, I thought the Keys were a 'maybe' thing – I didn't think you'd care either way."

"I kind of didn't..." She sighs dramatically. "I just want this one last thing with you. Before you go to college."

"We're going to college in the same city!" I snort.

"But not the same school. We're going to both be crazy busy when the semester starts."

Tanya's not normally the sentimental type, so her words catch me off guard. While we've always enjoyed an easy, close relationship, she's still fiercely independent. Very "live and let live". I guess I assumed she was more into seeing the famed Florida Keys than seeing them with me.

"I didn't realize you cared so much," I say softly, shaking my head.

"Well, yeah," she says, coming closer. "Everything's changing now..."

"They've been changing. You leaving for college was a huge change too."

She pouts, which looks ridiculous, and I'm so filled with affection for her that I melt.

"All right, all right; we can go. It'll be fun. Maybe..."

Tanya smiles rather knowingly. "Let's just do a couple of days, then, instead of a week. Drive down, spend a couple nights, do the beach, and then come back," she says. "That'll give us a little more time here before heading home."

I try to downplay my excitement. "You sure?"

"Yeah. Too bad those boys can't just come along," she says, leaving the room.

* * *

A steely, overcast sky hangs heavily over the water, the promise of rain evident. I've heard it rains a lot here during the summer, mostly in the afternoons, but until now we've lucked out. The wind picks up, rustling the normally lethargic palm fronds into a frenzy, and except for a couple of guys fishing way down the beach, the shore is nearly empty.

I don't mind. I'm tired, and for once, not in the mood to tan and chill on the beach. And anyway, Edward's not working today. He'd had the same shift as Tyler, but managed to switch with someone last minute. I feel for Tyler, though. He must be suffering after last night.

Wondering if Edward's still asleep, I decide to shoot him a text instead of calling.

_Hi ;) we hanging out tonight?_

Slipping my phone into my back pocket, I head downstairs to make a snack. Mouthwatering smells entice me to the kitchen where I find Aunt Renata, cooking. It's good to see her in relaxation mode, now that the wedding - and her mother-of-the-bride duties - are over.

"Hi, sweetheart. I wasn't sure if you and Tanya were even around." She extends an arm and pulls me into a hug.

"Hey Aunt Ren." I return the hug, giving her a tight squeeze. "We got home late last night, so we slept in."

"So I heard," she chuckles, stirring the sauce on the stove. "Charlie was getting a little irate."

Rolling my eyes, I grab a banana from the fruit bowl on the counter. "We told him we probably weren't coming home. I bet Tanya does this all the time in college."

"Maybe, but knowing it and seeing it are two different things," she says. "You girls sticking around for dinner? I'm making manicotti."

My stomach growls. That sounds – and smells – divine. "Wouldn't miss it." My phone vibrates, and I quickly slide it from my pocket. It's Edward, responding more promptly than I expected him to.

_i'd like to...what did you have in mind?_

Feeling all fluttery, I slip onto the porch right outside the kitchen. _You're the local. You tell me._

_You got ID?_

_Yes_

_Do you like to dance?_

I grimace at his question. _I'm a horrible dancer._

_I'm a good teacher. Can I pick you up around 8?_

I poke my head back into the kitchen.

"Aunt Ren, when's dinner?"

She glances quickly at the stove clock._"_Six-ish."

_8's perfect._

* * *

Dinner's a delicious, cozy affair with Uncle Marcus and Aunt Renata, Daddy, Tanya and I gathered around the dining room table. We eat manicotti, garlic bread and salad until we're stuffed, and the adults pretend not to notice when Tanya and I sneak a little wine. Our family has always made it a point to come together like this over the years, and the nostalgia makes me even more full than the food.

As content as I am with my family, though, my eyes stray to the clock on the wall every couple of minutes. When seven o'clock comes and goes, I stand, pushing back from the table.

"Thanks for dinner, Auntie Ren," I say, patting my stomach. "It was amazing."

"It's easy, hon. I'll email you the recipe."

"Okay." I collect my plate as well as my fathers, his dinner polished off two times over, and head to the kitchen.

My father follows me to the kitchen under the guise of needing more wine. "You girls going out?"

"Um, yeah, for a little while," I say, nodding. I rinse our plates before putting them in the dishwasher. "Nothing late like last night, I don't think."

"Who're you going with?"

Sighing inwardly, I dry my hands and turn to face him. He's playing casual, but we're veering into interrogation territory. "A couple of friends."

"Boyfriends?"

"Boys who are friends." I laugh, folding my arms. "Where would I find a boyfriend in a week?"

He cocks an eyebrow.

"You know, after this I'll be in college...and I'll be meeting friends and going out all the time -"

He's about to respond when Tanya joins us, sidling up next to our father. "You being a pain again, Daddy?"

"No, I'm just trying to find out what tonight's plans are. What guys are you going out with?"

Tanya shoots me a subtle death glare. "Friends of Bree and Michael. They've been showing us around...no big deal. We're going to a salsa place or something tonight. Eighteen and up."

She's so good at schmoozing and spur-of-the-moment bullshitting that even I have a hard time telling what's true and what isn't. Maybe she spoke to Tyler, too?

But, somehow, it's enough. Daddy kisses his little con artist, and then pulls me in for a hug. "All right. Just be careful. Call a cab if you need to, or call me. No matter what."

"We will," I promise, relieved he's letting it go. I think, sometimes, he needs to feel like he's still in control. It can't be easy watching your kids grow up.

Upstairs, Tanya and I go our own ways to get ready. She comes to my room to help me with my makeup, though, muttering about cluelessness.

"What?"

"I said, why'd you have to tell him we were meeting guys?"

"Because he's not stupid, Tanya," I huff. "He knew already."

"Stop scrunching your face."

"Sorry." I relax my features the best I can. "Anyway, I can't lie to him. That's your thing."

"Gee, thanks."

"Just keeping it real."

"Shut up or I'll give you hooker makeup."

She doesn't, though, and when she's done, I look like a prettier, sexier version of myself.

Edward had mentioned dancing. I don't know what kind, and I want to look good, but I want to be comfortable, too. I settle on strappy sandals and an equally strappy dress.

"So, are we all going?" I ask her, watching as she puts dangly earrings on. "Like, together?"

"For awhile, I guess. I think Tyler knows I prefer it that way."

This surprises me. Normally she's so impetuous and risky. "Really? I'd have thought you two would want alone time."

She smiles, dusting her cheeks with light, shimmery powder. "Maybe, after tonight, we will."

Edward calls to say he's on his way. Not wanting any potential run-ins with my father, I grab my bag and head downstairs to wait for him. He shows up minutes later, alone. I'm glad he and Tyler are in separate rides: I trust Edward, and I _want_ to be alone with him, even if it's just in his car.

Tonight he's in jeans and black button down, less casual than his beach uniform, but more laid back than last night's tux. Sexy, too, but that's nothing new.

He leaves his car and I leave my door, and we meet somewhere in the middle, little smiles on our faces like we're thinking about all that kissing we did. I'm thinking about it, anyway, and it's confirmed he is when he squints at my neck.

"Hi."

"Hi," I echo, touching my hickey. "Tanya helped me cover it."

We stand just inches apart, all of this crazy energy bouncing between us.

"Understandable," he says eventually, walking me to the passenger side of his car. His lips graze my cheek as I lower myself in, branding me with warmth. I glance back at the house, but it's impossible to see if anyone's watching from the window.

"Tyler should be here in a sec," Edward says, joining me. "They're gonna follow us to the club."

"Okay." I nod, checking my reflection in the visor's mirror before flipping it back up. "So what'd you do today?"

"Sleep. A lot," he chuckles.

I laugh quietly, too. "So did we. Not as much as I'd have liked to, but...Tanya always says you can sleep when you're dead."

He nods in approval. "She's right."

Headlights wash over us, and I twist around to see Tyler pulling up. Tanya bounces outside as if she was waiting by the door, because she probably was, and then we're in transit, leaving my uncle's immaculately manicured neighborhood for the technicolor feel of downtown Miami.

We end up in Little Havana, right on a main strip Edward calls Calle Ocho. He finds parking surprisingly quickly, but it takes Tyler longer, so we wait on the curb until they can catch up.

"They have good music," he says, pointing to one club where there's a small line forming outside. "And I went there my first week here," he continues, pointing to another.

"So...you can dance to this? Like...salsa?" I ask, feeling like a complete idiot. I've always felt pretty cultured growing up in Seattle, but this is like nothing I've ever experienced.

"My mom loved to dance," he says, smiling slightly. "But my Dad didn't, so she taught me and my brothers."

It's probably the most personal thing he's ever told me, and I'm still reeling from this glimpse of insight when Tyler and Tanya walk up, flushed and laughing.

As usual with them, I don't _even _want to know.

* * *

Edward grins devilishly at me. "Come on."

I chew anxiously on my lip before downing the rest of my Cuba Libre. It's my second; I had no problem getting into the club or getting drinks. Either our fake IDs are that good, or security is lax. Or maybe it was Edward's charm. All I know is that we're here, and we're doing this. And it's fun – the music is fantastic. So fantastic I know I'll be begging Edward for names and artists on the way home so I can bring it back to the West Coast.

But now he's trying to get me to dance again, and not to the slow stuff. He's already proved to be quite good at it, like everything else apparently, but I feel clumsy and ungraceful.

Hence the liquid courage.

The dance floor is packed, which is good; maybe no one will notice my ineptitude and general lack of cool. Edward knows how self conscious I am, and he draws me close, both hands wrapped around my body, his knee wedged between mine. It's provocative, but everyone's doing it, and when in Rome...

The song changes again. A cheer goes up, and Edward puts a little space between us. I start to panic when it becomes apparent that we're doing an actual dance, like the tango or something, but he simply squeezes my hand.

"Just follow."

"I'm trying."  
"Stop trying. I'll lead; you follow. It's easy."

And, once I stop trying to _not mess up_, it is easy. Tanya and Tyler flash by, total opposites of us: he's a goofball, and she's sexy and suave regardless. The song transitions into something with a heavy, sensual beat. Edward pulls me back, gluing us together. I feel like Baby in Dirty Dancing. The thought makes me giggle, which makes Edward grin. He spins me around, and I shriek, loving it.

And then he pulls me close, his hands on my behind. In seconds our mood warms from silly to flirty to something else. His hands are everywhere; it's like when we were kissing.

And then we are kissing.

* * *

Like she'd predicted, by the time we leave the club, Tanya's gone off alone with Tyler. I'm wondering if Edward plans to bring me back to his place. Physically, I'm so attracted to him. Our chemistry is ridiculous. But is it more than that? I think it might be. I mean, he's easy to be around. Conversation comes naturally; we seem to fall in sync effortlessly. Is that all it takes to have a healthy relationship?

And why am I even thinking about relationships? I'm having a summer fling with a cabana boy, for all intents and purposes. There have been movies made about this scenario.

"What're you thinking so hard about?" Edward asks, moving his hand from the gear shift to my knee. It lingers there, bringing on the familiar flutters I get when we're together.

"This," I admit, honestly.

He blinks, nodding. "What do you think about it?"

"I think...that I'm glad we met. And that I really like you. And it's going to be weird when I'm back in Seattle, remembering." I don't say anything else; I don't trust myself to. I tend to get loose lipped when tipsy, and while I'm not drunk, I'm not exactly sober.

"Weird?" he echoes.

We've left Little Havana, and I feel like I'm seeing more of this city tonight than I've seen the whole time I've been here.

"Not weird. Just, I'll miss you," I say, resting my hand on his. He flips his hand over, and our fingers link.

He shakes his head, and for the first time since we've met, he looks...tired. Sometimes I suspect his feelings for me run deeper than he lets on. But then he says, "I'll miss you too, Bella." And I know.

Silence falls. He turns the radio on, and we continue cruising, passing by other people and other clubs. He points out places he's been or would like to go, and something in me twists, wishing that I was going with him. The thought of him taking other girls makes me feel unexpectedly clingy, and I hate it.

Once we hit the highway, he turns the music down. "So...am I bringing you home now?"

Disappointed, but determined not to show it, I shrug. "I guess so."

"I don't really want to."

"I don't want you to, either."

His hand slides a little higher, pinkie brushing my inner thigh. "Good." We share a glance. I try not to squirm from his touch.

I'm a little surprised when, after awhile, things start looking familiar again outside. "Are we near my Uncle's?"

"Yeah. There's a marina nearby. I wanted to show you something."

He pulls into a half empty parking lot moments later. Just beyond, I can make out the gently bobbing shapes of boats in the dark, and occasional glints when the moonlight hits a mast.

I follow Edward down a walkway and out to the docks, where he stops outside of a sailboat. Then, before I can ask what the hell he's doing, he jumps lithely on to it, pausing only to turn and extend his hands to me. "Come on."

"Please tell me this is yours," I whisper loudly, giving him my hands anyway.

"It's my brother's. No worries." With a gentle yank he has me on the boat and back in his arms, where he gives me a saucy grin and a wink.

"Prove it," I say, dubious.

Reaching into his pocket, he procures his car keys and singles one out. "This opens below deck. You'll see."

"You're just full of surprises," I say, looking around in wonderment. I don't know much about boats, but this one seems roomy, and obviously well maintained.

Edward gives me a brief tour, starting on deck and then bringing me below, where, sure enough, the key unlocks the door. After a minute, I get used to the rocking.

"Does your brother sail a lot?"

"Not as much as he'd like to. He's always working. Out of town, especially."

We're standing in a tiny bedroom, our heads nearly touching the roof. Windows line the room, allowing in the muted glow of moonlight.

"Do you sail, too?"

"I'm proficient, but it's more his thing."

After grabbing a big, thick blanket from the foot of the bed, he leads me back up to the deck. He lays it down, and after I help him smooth it out, we sit. I tuck my knees in and take my shoes off, watching him do the same.

"I bet you bring all the girls here," I joke. Well, partly. Maybe I'm fishing, too.

He snorts. "My brother would kill me if I brought girls here."

"Then why'd you bring me?" I laugh quietly. My eyes have adjusted to the mostly-dark, and I see him shrug.

"I don't think he'd mind you."

I nod, biting my lip. "So...Tanya and I are going down to the Keys after all. For two days."

"You coming back here after, or..."

"Yeah. For a few days." My stomach tenses, mainly because we both know I'm coming back early to spend time with him.

But he just smiles. "Cool."

"Yeah. Have you been down there?"

"Actually, we went on this boat."

"You and your brother?"

"And a couple of other people."

"Is he –" My words are lost when he leans in and gently kisses me. He presses his lips to mine, parting them, breathing my air. I link my hands around his neck and kiss back, sliding my tongue through his mouth. He tastes a little like the lime he was sucking on before we left the club.

We rest back on the blanket, legs tangling naturally like we've done this a thousand times before. Rolling halfway on to me, he reaches down and grips my thigh as my dress rides up. I don't care as much this time. It's dark, and every time we're together like these we get closer. I want to feel him, and I want him to feel me.

And then I _do_ feel him. He starts to move his hips away, but I hook my leg around, trapping him. He groans, pressing his face to my neck. "You're making this hard for me..."

"I thought that was the point," I whisper.

He squeezes my thigh and pulls me beneath him completely, his face fine above me, backlit by the stars. I wrap my other leg around him, drawing a shaky breath when our bodies press together. It's easy to imagine him inside me – too easy. I shove the thought from my head.

"Did you have fun tonight?" he asks, scattering kisses down my neck and all over my cleavage.

"Yes," I groan-whisper. "So much fun."

"Good." We roll around for awhile, kissing, endlessly kissing. He runs his fingers through my hair, down my back and over my ass, which he squeezes.

Breaking away from my mouth, he goes for my neck – the other side this time.

"No hickeys," I plead, pulling on his hair a little.

He doesn't bite or suck too hard, but his mouth on my skin feels divine. I writhe beneath him, mindless with pleasure, and when he slides one of the straps from my dress down, I don't stop him.

Tugging the top of my dress down, he kisses his way from my collar bone to my breasts, leaving my skin damp and cool in the night air. By the time he wraps his mouth around my nipple, I trembling from cold and nerves. He reaches up under my dress and finds my underwear, which by this point are more than a little wet.

He sneaks his fingers past the material and I jerk, nipping his lip in the process. He moans like he likes that, but I didn't mean to bite, so I suck on it instead. After a moment his fingers start moving, rubbing slickly up and down before sliding one inside. We kiss distractedly: him, concentrating, me, spinning off into space, breathing hard.

He drags his mouth back to my breasts, tonguing one nipple and then the other. His mouth, his fingers, the way his body undulates against mine as if we're actually connected – it's overwhelming. I come. And come.

He kisses me quiet until my body relaxes. Well, until my muscles do. My heart is racing, and it probably will be until I go back to Seattle. Lying still, hands tangled in his hair, I try to catch my breath. He withdraws his fingers and fixes my underwear before tickling the underside of my knee, breaking the tension between us with silliness and quiet giggling.

I reach for the buttons on his fly, but he moves to sit beside me.

"What?

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"I'm not fucking you on my brother's boat." The teasing lilt to his voice softens the harshness of his words.

"I'm not asking you to."

He pulls my dress up again so that I'm covered, and then palms himself. "If we take off my pants it's gonna be...uncomfortable for me. I'm already a little..."

"Well, you were the one that brought me here." Now I'm the one teasing him, and he grins down at me.

"Yeah, I did."

"To seduce me."

Running both hands through his hair, he exhales slowly, the tiniest hint of a smile playing at his mouth. "I think it's safe to say that it might be the other way around."

* * *

_***Enur (ft Natasja) - Calabria**_

_**you can try to listen to it without a little shimmy or straight up dance-a-thon, but i think it's impossible.**_

_**also, you can't play on Calle Ocho without a token Pitbull jam, so they probably also danced to the **_

_***Shake Senora Remix.**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**_

thanks for reading. and special thanks to those who review and share their thoughts and opinions. i appreciate it more than you know.

* * *

Eleven in the morning, and the day is already sweltering, heat shimmering like a mirage over the asphalt. Even with my sunglasses on, the sun blazes so brilliantly it's hard to really focus on anything.

Tanya shuts the trunk of our rental, brushing her hands off with a flourish. "Ready?"

I push off of the hood and wait. I've been ready to go for awhile; she's the one who's been rooting around our bags and texting and tweeting and taking for-freaking-ever.

"Hey," she says, impatient at my lack of response. "Let's go."

Well, good. Guess she really is finally ready.

Yawning, I open the door and slide into the passenger seat. I'm still tired from last night, when I crept in around four. That's still so late it's almost early, but I was just glad to beat the sun this time – Tanya didn't get in until seven. She just barely missed running into Daddy, whose argument with someone on the phone alerted her to his presence downstairs. She'd slipped in through the kitchen door instead of the front.

He hasn't said anything to either of us about the hours we've been keeping, but I know he disapproves. I get the impression he'll be relieved when we're "safely" back in Seattle for school.

Although, if campus life for me is anything like it is for my sister, it'll be far from tame.

Tanya drops in to the driver's seat, scooting it up to accommodate her height. She's got a couple of inches on me, but neither of us are very tall.

"Ugh. Definitely stopping at a Starbucks first," she groans, cringing at her reflection in the rearview mirror as she adjusts it. "I'm so disgustingly tired."

"So let me drive." It's a half-hearted suggestion. Navigating Miami is the last thing I feel like doing, but it's preferable to ending up in a ditch somewhere because Tanya fell asleep at the wheel.

"No, it's cool. Just need coffee." She flicks the a/c to high, check her phone's navigation, and carefully backs out of Budget's parking lot. Aunt Renata dropped us here about fifteen minutes ago, staying just long enough to ensure we got a good car and a good deal. We're on our own now, and will be until we get back on Wednesday.

Knowing that I won't see Edward until then has me tender with longing, but mostly I'm looking forward to the downtime with Tanya. She and I'd talked about this a lot before ever coming to Florida, so in some ways it feels like we're crossing something significant off our bucket lists.

"So. Where'd you end up going with Tyler last night?" I ask, once we're properly caffeinated and cruising down 95.

"Just dinner," she says. "Latin fusion cuisine or something..."

"Did you guys do it?"

Tanya scoffs. "We've been doing it."

"Since when?" I cry, sitting up. "Jeez, Tan, you just met this guy!"

She shrugs. "Night of the wedding. What do you want me to say? He's cute, he treats me well, and he's hung like a –"

"Okay, okay," I half-yell, turning the music up.

She turns it back down, laughing quietly. "So I take it Edward hasn't popped that cherry."

Just the thought of it releases the craziest maelstrom of emotion. I want him to, but I barely know him, but I feel like I've known him longer, but it's too soon, and what would people think, and forget that – what would _I_ think? Or feel? Too much, too soon, and yet not enough.

"I'll take that as a 'no'."

"No, we haven't done that yet," I admit. In some ways, talking about this stuff with Tanya is a little new. We've always been tight, but when we were younger the age gap felt more major. It's only since we've grown up some that things have shifted. She's become more of a confidante, like Angie and Lauren, my very best friends back home.

We drive in a chill quiet, listening to the offerings of the radio. When a crappy song neither of us likes comes on, I start fiddling with the dial.

"Do you want him to?" Tanya asks, keeping her eyes on the road as she sips at her latte.

"Yes."

A small smile graces her pretty mouth, and she nods. "I had a feeling."

"Yeah?" I smile, too. "Why?"

"Oh, Bell. You look at him like he hangs the moon. And he looks at you like you're something to eat."

I laugh at the ridiculousness. And at the difference in sentiment. "Well, I don't know. I think about it, and I love how I feel with him, but it seems...just, not smart. I'll probably never see him again after this summer and that's not the way I envisioned my first time."

"It's rarely the way you envision."

"You know what I mean."

"I do know, but you know what _I_ mean, too." She takes another sip. "You're still such a romantic."

Rolling my eyes, I finish my coffee and stuff it into a cup-holder. "That's your way of saying I'm so precious and naïve. I'm not a total innocent, jeez."

"Oh, I know you're not." She chuckles in the throaty way she does when she's being naughty, or wants to be.

"What? Because of stupid Jared Cameron?" I huff, crossing my arms. "It was _one time!_"

"Yeah, but you were loud."

"No one was supposed to be home!"

"So funny!" She cackles gleefully. "I thought for sure he was fucking your brains out. You don't know how close I came to knocking on the door."

"You're so crude."

"Who, me or you?" she asks tartly. "Didn't you say he made you come like three times?"

My face catches fire, and I cover it in mortification. It's one thing for your big sister to know you fool around, but for her to actually hear it is another story completely. God knows I hope I never, ever hear Tanya in the throes.

"That boy must've had amazing fingers..."

"Tanya," I groan.

"What?" she says, poking me. "I don't care."

"I care."

"Well, you need to get over yourself. And anyway, I don't want to talk about you and Jared. I want to talk about you and Edward." I feel her eyes on me. "Does he know you're a virgin?"

"I don't know. It hasn't come up."

She doesn't say anything else about it, and neither do I. I really have no idea whether Edward knows or not. I doubt the girls he's been with lately have been virgins. Most of my friends have sealed the deal by this point, but I just never had it like that with anyone.

In some ways, sex seems like this perfect storm – for the first time, anyway – and it's never been perfect like that for me.

* * *

The Best Western we're staying at is right on the water. It's in a quieter part of Key West, but that's perfect for Tan and I because we're not really trying to party. This is more about girl time and relaxation – cocktails and tanning. This is also why we opted not to stay with family friends.

We check in, change in our room, and head straight for the sand. The beach isn't empty, but it's nowhere near crowded, and we spend the afternoon exactly the way we've imagined, getting gold and just a little tipsy, too. Back in Miami, the stretch of beach Uncle Marcus' house sits on is pretty, but it's got nothing on this jewel-toned vista of turquoise water and towering palms. It's stunning. I snap a couple of pictures, smiling when I scroll through the few I've taken of Edward.

I'm dozing lightly when my phone rings. Reaching blindly for it in my bag, I snatch it up just in time for the call to go to voicemail.

Hoping it's who I think it is, I listen to the message.

_Hey Bella. I guess you guys are in the Keys by now. Have fun. Call me when you get back. Or call me now. Just call._

I call. Edward picks up after a couple of rings. Judging by the steady din and noise in the background, he's at work. "Hello? Bella?"

"Hi." I grin, adjusting my sunglasses, seeing him in my mind's eye. "Got your message. Obviously."

I can almost hear him smiling. "Figured. Yeah, I just wanted to...you know. Say hi."

A subtle nervousness sneaks through his words, and I sit up, fascinated by it. "I'm glad. I've been thinking abut you."

"Yeah, me too."

There's a second of silence, maybe each of us considering what the other has said. I've been ultra-aware of this lately, how sharp the difference is between thinking or feeling a thing, and then saying it. Giving voice to something defines it so tangibly.

"I...I wish you could see this place. It's so pretty. Tropical, almost."

"Send me a picture."

"It won't be the same. I will, though."

"Cool."

We pause, a little awkwardly. Tanya peers over at me, mouthing _Edward?_ She's a couple of drinks in, so I'm not surprised when she starts waggling her eyebrows and miming blow jobs. Giving her the bitch brow, I look away. Edward clears his throat. "You get back Wednesday?"

"Afternoon, yeah. I'll call you."

"Do that. I'll be working, probably."

"When do you get off today?"

"I'll be done here in about an hour, but I have to work later. Another wedding."

"On a Monday night? That's interesting."

"They have them whenever, but yeah. It's a small one. Some swanky place downtown. I'm heading home now, actually, to get ready."

"Oh, okay. Well, don't let me keep you."

"Nah, it's cool. I'll talk to you later, though. Have fun."

"I will."

We hang up. I look around, capturing several more pictures of scenery and sending them before I forget. Meanwhile, Tanya's sidled up even closer and is staring over my shoulder at the photos.

"You're a good girl, Bell."

"Thanks." I kiss the tip of her nose before turning back to my phone.

"I mean it. Too good."

"Oh Lord; here we go."

"No, shut up," she slurs. "Listen. Listen. You're a good girl. Make that kid work for it, okay? He's cool, but your first time needs to be significant. Promise me you won't throw it away?"

I'm quiet, drawing patterns in the sand. "Did you throw it away?" I ask, cautious just in case.

"No. I didn't." She stands, wobbling. She's drunk, I know, but she's being honest. The brashness and playful bravado she usually exudes is absent, a wistful thoughtfulness in its place. "But I can't get it back, either. To me, that's the one thing you don't want to regret."

I stand up too, brushing sand from my butt. Our conversation turns silly after that, and soon we're soaking in the shallow, warm water.

But her words stay with me.

* * *

Wincing, I reach for my bottle of water. Tanya takes pity and hands it to me, hissing in pain herself.

Thanks to our stint in the Keys, we're slightly sunburnt and very hungover. I'm driving since Tan drove down. I'm wondering if she planned it like this. It sucks.

I take a long swallow and toss the bottle aside, disgusted with myself. "Never again."

"What, the tequila?"

"The tequila, the passing out in the sun, the tequila..."

She sighs loudly. "Small price to pay for a good time."

From my lap, my phone vibrates, alerting me to a text. Keeping my eyes on the road, I hand it over to Tanya."Can you see who this is?"

"It's lover boy, of course, wondering what time you'll be in."

"Tell him five."

"Five? We're making good time; we'll be in way before that."

"I know. I want to surprise him."

"Games," she mutters, sending the text anyway. A moment later she waves my phone. "Says he'll see you then."

Tanya's right – we make great time, getting back to Uncle Marcus and Aunt Renata's house just before three. I'm feeling better than I was, so I try to get her to hit the beach, but she opts for a nap instead.

Down in the kitchen, I find my Aunt, who looks like she's on her way out.

"Hey, Aunt Ren."

"Bella! You're back early."

"Kind of, yeah." I nod, tightening my ponytail. "We wanted to get an early start this morning. Is my Dad around?"

She cocks her head, face curiously blank. "No, actually."

I wait for her to continue, but she never does. "So where'd he go? The beach?"

We both laugh at this, because my father hates the beach.

"No, no. He had a couple of errands to run."

I have no idea what he could possibly have to do in Miami – he's on vacation just like we are – but I don't give it much thought. Outside, the sun plays peek-a-boo with the clouds, making it bright, but not uncomfortably so.

"All right, well, I'm gonna hang out on the beach for awhile."

"You'd better hurry; it's supposed to rain later."

I grab another bottle of water from the fridge and head out, squinting as the sun hits me. There are a good number of people out, but not quite as many as there were when we first started coming. Maybe the tourism here comes in waves or something.

A beach waiter in navy blue and khaki catches my eye, but it's not Edward. I scan the beach, looking for him, hoping I see him before he spots me. There are several guys working the beach, their rehearsed – but handsome – white smiles nearly as blinding as the sun. I see Tyler after a minute, strutting away from a group of older women. It looks like he's cracking up, and then I see Edward, jogging to catch up to him. They're both laughing, hard, and I see why when one of the women, who's very Real Housewives of Miami, jumps up to stuff a wad of dollar bills in his back pocket.

Amused, I start making my way toward the beach bar. No doubt, these guys get flirted with and propositioned all the time. I guess I just didn't think it was so blatant.

By the time I enter the patio area, Edward's on his way back out, balancing a full tray of drinks. His eyes lighten in surprise, and he grins, setting it down. "You're back."

"I _am_ back...Magic Mike."

"What?" He laughs, blushing, and I have a feeling he knows what I'm getting at.

"You know what," I say, pressing my lips together so I don't laugh outright. "Take your shirt off next time; bet you'll really rake it in then."

"Yeah, well. What can I say." He looks away, scratching his head. "You sticking around?"

"That happen to you a lot?" I ask, ignoring his attempt to change the subject. For someone who's always so confident, he sure looks sheepish now.

"They come all the time, yes" he says, nodding toward the beach. "Get fall down drunk, talk shit, go home. It's more funny than anything."

Giggling, I nod. "I know. I saw Tyler laughing at you."

He rolls his eyes, picking the tray back up. "Glad I could entertain. _Anyway_. You staying?"

"Of course." I set my water and phone onto a table and sit down, glad for the shade the huge, attached umbrella provides.

"'Kay. I'll be right back."

"Okay."

For the rest of his shift, I relax by the bar, chatting with him when he gets a minute, and calling friends back home when he's caught up. Around five he ambles over and sits down beside me, fingertips drumming lightly on my knee. "So what're you up to tonight?"

"I don't know." I smile at him, my heart tripping when he smiles back. "Can we just hang out?"

"For sure. Let's get out of here, though. Come on."

* * *

Edward's apartment is small and clean. It looks more like a hotel suite than a home, with its generic décor and minimal furniture. When I ask about the closed door across the hall from his, he shrugs and says, "my brother's."

We order pizza, and then fool around in the kitchen while waiting for it to be delivered. He's sucking on my tongue and snaking his hand up the bottom of my shorts when the doorbell rings. I push him off, flustered and turned on. "That's the pizza guy," I say, my voice trembly.

He shoves his hand through his messy hair and adjusts himself pointedly. "You might be in a better position to answer the door."

The door bell rings again. He grabs his wallet and goes to answer it while I catch my breath in the kitchen, smoothing my hair and tugging on my tank top. Maybe it's more obvious because he's a guy, but I'm just as physically affected as he is.

In the living room, he puts on the TV while we eat. It's the most normal thing we've ever done. This could be home, and he could be my boyfriend. It's ordinary and absolutely perfect, and my heart hurts knowing these days are numbered.

"What are you going to study?" he asks, finishing the pizza crusts I leave behind.

"I don't know yet," I admit. "Probably English. Or something. I'm kind of interested in studying abroad."

"But studying what abroad?" he asks, teasing.

"I don't know," I repeat, kicking his leg lightly. "Maybe I'll be one of those immersion teachers...you know. The ones that teach kids English."

"Oh, so you meant English _literally_," he says, nodding. "I thought you meant literature."

"I did. I like that, too." I grimace, wiping my hands on a napkin. "I feel a little direction-less, to be honest. Which sucks. Tanya's wanted to study criminal justice since birth."

"Tanya? Really?" He's visibly surprised.

"Don't let her blonde bombshell act fool you," I say dryly. "She kicks ass when necessary."

"I don't doubt that," he responds. "I guess..." Laughing, he shakes his head. "In some ways she reminds me of my brother's girl."

"Oh? In what way?"

"She's a pretty girl whose looks cause people underestimate her."

"Yeah, definitely." I shrug. "She had to grow up fast in some ways...and she's always looked out for me."

"The way older siblings do."

"Right. But," I pause, wondering if I want to go here with him. And, I do. "Especially because it's just us. And my Dad. My mother died when we were really little."

I've gotten a lot of reactions from people when I tell them this, but none like this. He blanches, almost recoiling away. I rub my hands down my thighs, waiting for him to say something, wondering if maybe I shouldn't have shared.

Eventually he rubs his hands over his face. "Sorry. I mean...sorry. For your loss. I –"

"Edward, it was a really, really long time ago. It's okay." Taking a deep breath, I exhale slowly. "I don't remember much."

He's silent, staring out the window. Anxious, I sit beside him, trying not to fidget. This is such a departure from the suave, confident guy that's been rocking my world. I don't know what to do. But then he sits up, looking at me. His eyes are more serious than I've ever seen.

"I lost my mom, too. But it was five years ago. I remember everything."

My throat closes. I stare at my lap, swallowing back my need to cry until I can manage a quiet, "sorry."

His hand finds mine and we sit, quiet, for a long time.

He won't tell me much, only that it was a car accident and she didn't suffer. If I hadn't already been wondering about his family, I certainly wonder now. I remember him telling me that his mother had taught him to dance.

In some ways this strange coincidence, this connection between us, binds us so intimately. But in other ways it drives a wedge, like things just got really heavy really fast, and the intensity is almost unbearable. We watch part of a movie, our fingers clasped together tightly, but I can tell he's distracted.

His phone rings, and he disappears into another room to answer. My decision not to nap like Tanya earlier is coming back to bite me now, and once the yawning starts, it won't stop.

I text her, making sure she's not worried that I'm still out. She responds pretty quickly, letting me know the name of a nearby beach bar if we want to join her and Tyler.

I don't, and I doubt Edward will.

When he returns to the room, he stands next to the couch, tapping it absently. "I should probably drop you back. I have a couple of things to do."

I feel like we're falling apart before we really got a chance to be together. I don't know what I did – in fact, I know it's nothing I did. It's his mom, and my mom, and things are just too real.

Shrugging, I stand up and pocket my phone. "That's cool."

We walk to the door and then outside to the car in silence, feeling like we're millions of miles apart instead of inches. The air is thick and close, the humidity nearly as wet as the rainclouds hovering darkly in the sky.

There's a giant fist clenched around my insides, trepidation and nerves. I say nothing as we drive, choosing instead to gaze at the passing scenery. Uncle Marcus' house appears way too quickly. I open the door the second Edward pulls up to it, but he grabs my arm.

"Sorry, okay? I didn't mean to freak you out or anything. I just wasn't expecting..."

"It's all right."

He leans toward me, but I slide out of the car, a little too conflicted to kiss him. "You working tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

"I'll see you then." Walking away's the last thing I want to do, but somehow I manage.

* * *

Jolting awake, I blink in the darkness.

Something's awoken me from a deep sleep, and when I feel vibrating and see a half buried glow I realize it was my phone. Text messages.

There are several, all from Edward.

Rubbing my eyes, I squint at the time display in the corner of the phone.

_1:26_

"What the hell..." Groggy, I start scrolling through the messages. The first one came through just minutes ago, so these are recent. All asking to see me.

_Where are you? _I text.

_Home. But I can be there fast._

_It's late. Let's talk tmrw._

_Give me five minutes._

Not surprisingly, my will power is non-existent, so I agree to see him. It's not like I'm upset with him, anyway – just confused. And unsure of what he needs.

I pull a hoodie on over my pajamas and creep downstairs. My father and uncle keep late hours sometimes, and I'm praying this is not one of those nights. The house seems quiet, though. Thank God. Moving quickly, I turn the alarm system off so it doesn't announce Edward's arrival, and then wait by the kitchen door, where I told him to meet me. He shows up minutes later, damp from rain.

I open the door and slip out, motioning for him to follow me out to the pool area. We find a dark little corner beneath one of the patio cabanas, and sit down. Between the wind and constant drizzle, it's gotten chilly.

"I'd bring you inside, but, I don't know," I say, looking over at the darkened house. "It would be really awkward if we got caught."

He nods, and then switches seats, so that instead of being across from me, he's right beside me. "Look, I'm sorry for tripping out like that. I guess...I didn't know we'd have that in common, and it's the one thing I have a hard time dealing with. Sometimes I want the pain to go away, but then I feel like it helps keep her memory real. Alive." He reaches up and runs his fingertips along the side of my face. "But sometimes it hurts too much, and my first instinct is to just run."

"Run where?" I catch his hand and lower it to my lap, where I hold it between the both of mine.

"Anywhere." He takes a big breath, chuckling as he releases it. "I wish I could just run away with you."

His words seize my heart. Literally. I think I may've died.

"What?" I give his hand an involuntary squeeze.

"I wish we could just...leave."

"But, you have a life here. And your brother –"

"It's not really about that."

I imagine asking him to move. It would be crazy and impulsive, and I'd love it. Maybe he'd love it. Maybe...

"I wish things were different," he continues in a low voice. "But they're not. We're going to go our own ways in a couple of days, and it's going to hurt."

"Not necessarily." Our fingers fall together, linked. "We'll stay in touch. And when the time is right, you'll visit." I mean every word I say, and I want desperately for them to be true, but I also know how fragile we are. We've only had the past two weeks, and what is that in the vastness of a life?

_It can be everything._

We're quiet for a long time. Around us, the rain starts to recede only to come back with a vengeance and a flash of light in the sky. Thunder rumbles distantly, just close enough to make me feel nervous about being outside.

"I'll understand if you want to walk away," he mumbles.

My eyes fill with tears, so I keep them diverted, not wanting to look at him if I cry. "Why would I want to walk away now?"

"Because it's going to hurt."

"It already hurts."

"I'm sorry..." His thumb brushes my cheekbone, coming away wet.

"I'm not. I'm not sorry. I'd rather have this than nothing at all." I look up and kiss him, pushing my lips against his until they part, letting me in. It's the first time I've initiated a kiss. His fingers curve around the back of my neck, pulling me closer. I twist around so that I'm facing him, and he brings my leg over his lap.

The rain comes down so hard it's sideways. We kiss until we're soaking wet and shivering, and we have no choice but to stop. He darts away in the storm, leaving me alone to sneak back inside. The air conditioning is brutal against my wet skin, but it's nothing compared to the ache inside.

Because I know he's right.

Being apart from him is going to really hurt.

* * *

_Daylight - Maroon 5_


	8. Chapter 8

**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

_***CFCF - You Hear Colours**_

* * *

Last night might have been the first time I've gone to bed at a decent hour in weeks. But while I'm better rested, my heart remains heavy after Edward's late night visit. I take my time in the shower, shaving and conditioning, thinking abut how I want to spend my last days in Miami.

Afterward, stomach growling, I head downstairs, hoping Aunt Renata's still around so I can beg her for breakfast. I can do it myself, of course, but not the way she can.

Luckily she's there, stirring her coffee as she leans against the counter, but she's not the reason I halt in my tracks.

Uncle Riley'e eyes smile at me over the top of his newspaper. "Morning, Isabella."

"Morning, Uncle Riley." Bemused, I give him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Morning, Aunt Ren."

"Morning, baby. Omelet?"

"You read my mind," I sigh, nodding. I turn my attention to Uncle Riley, frowning. "So you're back?"

"I never really left," he says, folding the paper. "I've had vacation time coming for awhile, so I figured I'd stay as long as I could. I've been in Orlando since the girls left."

I wrinkle my nose. "By yourself?"

"I have a couple of old friends up that way. College friends." He says it casually, but I don't know. I get the impression he's being vague. The crazy notion that he could be involved in shady stuff like Uncle Marcus passes through my mind, and for a second, I wonder what that would be like. I'm just glad Daddy stays above all that.

At least, I think he does.

As if he sees my mind whirring, Uncle Riley chuckles and gets to his feet. "Just like your Mom sometimes," he says affectionately. He gives me a quick squeeze, ruffling my hair. "Always a million miles away."

"Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah. Daydreamer. Charlie loved that about her." He winks, sipping his coffee.

I never considered myself to be that much of a daydreamer, but maybe I am. I like that I share this with my mother.

"When are you going back home?" I ask, getting a mug for myself.

"Day after tomorrow."

"Oh. Us, too."

"I know." He grins at Aunt Renata. "Marcus and Ren'll be empty nesters all over again."

"Imagine that." Humming, she uses a knife to scrape the veggies she's just chopped into a waiting skillet. The sizzle and smell of sauteing onions fill the air, making my stomach twist in hunger.

I turn back to Uncle Riley, to ask another question, but he's gone, newspaper and empty coffee cup the only sign he was ever here.

* * *

I spend the rest of the morning by the pool with my father and Tanya. As usual, she's monopolizing the conversation, chatting about the classes she'll be taking and the apartment she and her best friend have right off campus. I half listen, torn between my excitement over starting college and my gloom over leaving the first guy I've ever maybe, kind of, almost loved.

Uncle Riley takes my place when Tan and I get out. Right away, he and Daddy leave the patio, heads inclined as they discuss whatever it is they discuss. I watch them go, thinking about all the times I've seen them just like this. They've always been close.

Edward took opening shift at the restaurant, so by the time the lunchtime rush has abated, he's free to go. He picks me up around two and we spend the day driving around, going to shops and cafés he thinks I'd like. It's fun, casual – and the total opposite of last night's dismal episode. We meet up with my sister and Tyler for dinner and then go to the movies.

Tanya pulls me aside afterward, squeezing my hand.

"I'm gonna let him take me home now. Call me if you need me."

"All right." I look at her, seeing for the first time her glassy eyes, the grim line of her mouth. "You okay, though? What's up?"

"Nothing, Bell," she whispers, shaking her head. She forces a smile, swipes my cheek with a kiss, and lets go. "Later. Behave yourself."

Edward turns to me, grabbing my hand. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah."

We drive with the windows down and the music loud, stopping to get milkshakes on the way to his place. I'm queasy from sugar by the time I tumble into bed with him, where we make out until we fall asleep. When we wake up again it's late, nearly three, and time for him to take me home. But one kiss turns to five, and then he's on top of me again.

"I'm not going in tomorrow," he murmurs into my ear, warm breath making me shiver. One would think that by this time I'd be enured to him, but so far...no.

"What will you do?" I ask, wrapping my legs around him. We're both in just jeans, shirts lost hours ago.

"I'll take you to the beach," he says, scooting down, fingertips tickling the edge of my bra. "A different beach, far away. Quieter."

I nod, watching him gaze at my chest, counting freckles and kissing them. "Okay."

"Spend the day."

"I'd like that." I grab his face and kiss his chin, cheeks, and then his mouth. We fall back into that, and he climbs up my body, moving against me like we're naked.

It's hard to do in jeans, though, and eventually sleepiness threatens to overtake us again so we get up. He tosses me my shirt and puts on his own, watching as I get dressed and fix my hair.

His eyes on me: it's something I hope I never forget.

The warmth of his stare. The wanting.

After awhile he notices that I'm staring back, and he breaks into a smile. "Ready?"

"I guess." We both know I don't want to go home, but I have to.

* * *

I wake up filled with anticipation and dread. I know the day's going to go by too fast, and I'm determined to love every second. After putting on my white bikini, a newer one I've been saving, I go quietly to Tanya's room and knock. It's nearly nine, and I know for a fact she was in early last night. When she doesn't respond, I open the door and poke my head in.

She's buried beneath the blankets, nothing but a slip of blonde peeking out.

"Tan?"

The lump that is my sister moves. "What."

"What is with you?" I ask, closing the door and going to her. To my surprise, her eyes are red rimmed, her face puffy. "Did he do something to you?"

Fresh tears run down her face, and, enraged, I grab her arm. "What'd he do?"

"Nothing, nothing," she cries. "Nothing. I broke it off with him."

I sit back, confused. "Why? I thought you guys were cool."

"We were."

"So?"

"So nothing. It's time to go. I cut him him loose before he could do it."

"That's crappy," I say, disgusted. Poor Tyler. I know Tanya's a heartbreaker, but really.

"Shut up, Baby Bell. Go on, meet your boy. I know that's where you're going."

"Of course that's where I'm going." I sigh loudly. "It's our last day. I would've thought you and Tyler would be doing something special."

She snorts and rolls over, facing away from me. "Have a good time. I'll be here if you need me."

"If you're so upset over dumping Tyler, maybe you shouldn't have dumped him."

"Whatever. It's too late, and we're leaving tomorrow. So."

"You're an ass."

"Go spend the day with your lover boy," she says, trying to be snide. It comes out sounding pathetic, though.

"I think you should call Tyler."

"I love that you're a hopeless romantic, but that's not me, Bella. This would've happened regardless – I just pulled the band-aid off a little quicker. Did us both a favor."

"You're a romance novel cliché," I tell her, standing up. "The emotionally distant type. I hope no one ever treats me the way you treated him."

"Same here, Baby Bell."

Shaking my head, I leave the pity party, figuring she needs to marinate on her own. It's weird seeing her like this, especially over a guy, but there's a first time for everything. I wonder if she's always been like this, and I'm only now seeing it. Who knows.

The thing is, I actually _understand_ why she's doing this - I just disagree. Like, vehemently. It seems...weak.

And weak is something I don't associate with Tanya.

Returning to my room, I pull a little dress on and fill my beach bag with what I need. Edward texts to say he's on his way, so I run downstairs for a quick breakfast of bagels and coffee before going outside to wait.

Despite being slightly overcast this morning, the day has mellowed into a sweet, sunny, bright blue. I am so grateful; spending our last day indoors would have been a bummer, especially since we're going to a different beach.

Edward grins as he pulls up, opening my door from the inside. "Hey."

"Hi." I lean over to kiss him before buckling my seatbelt. "I'm glad we're getting an early start."

"Me too. It's a little bit of a drive, but worth it. I promise."

We drive for awhile, making small talk. I mention Tanya, and he nods, saying he had a feeling. He says he sees it all the time down here with people who are on vacations. Sometimes it's the guys he knows, but sometimes, like with Tanya, the girl strikes preemptively.

I bite my lip, listening. "I'm glad you didn't do that to me. Well, you tried, but I didn't let you."

He shifts gears and grabs my hand. "I did try. Kind of. I thought...I don't know. I didn't want to. I thought..." he rambles and then stops, flushed. "I don't know what I'm doing, Bella. You turn my brain to mush."

"Gee, thanks," I laugh.

"You do," he says softly. "I never planned on feeling this way about you."

I allow his words to settle in, basking in the warmth they bring. "Well, same here."

After a while, Edward pulls into a parking area near a marina. This of course reminds me of our make out session on his brother's boat, and though that was a different marina, the feelings that course through me are the same. I want him, badly.

But Edward seems to be in a different state of mind, almost playful as we grab our bags and head toward the beach. There's hardly anyone around, even though it's a Saturday, and the water is calm and clear.

"This is nice," I say, nodding. "Quiet."

"My brother and Rose come here a lot," he says.

_Rose. _I'm about to ask what his brother's name is when he clears his throat and points. "Let's sit beneath those trees. We'll get a little shade as the sun goes higher."

We pick our way over to a small group of palm trees and toss our stuff down. I peel my dress off, and then turn to help Edward spread our blanket.

"Are you hungry? There's a restaurant at the marina," he says.

"I'm okay; maybe later."

"Want to go swimming, then?"

"Definitely." As many times as I've seen him at the beach, this is the first time we're hanging out and swimming together. Normally he's working, and I'm watching. Hand in hand, we cross the warm stretch of sand, passing a pair of towheaded children. They're working hard on a sandcastle, and I have to say...it's impressive.

"I used to love doing that," I say.

"I can_ see_ you doing that."

"Maybe I'll do it today. It's been years."

We sink into the lukewarm water. It's heavenly, especially when Edward pulls me close and wraps my legs around him. We float that way for a long while, talking until our skin starts to prune.

"I could stay in here forever," I say, feeling wistful at the thought of getting out.

We look at each other. His eyes are the prettiest, palest green today, nearly aqua against the water. I fight the urge to kiss him, unwilling to put on a show for the young and innocent souls playing on the shore.

Beneath the surface, though, Edward's fingers graze the edges of my swimsuit before cupping my bottom. He brings me a little closer, and I hug him, resting my chin on his shoulder.

"Thanks for bringing me today."

"Thanks for coming."

* * *

Alec and Jane, sandcastle extraordinaires aged six and seven, lend me their colorful supply of building apparatus while they have lunch further down the beach. Within minutes I'm creating a castle of my own, complete with doorways and a moat.

"You're like a little kid," Edward says, watching in amazement as I get down and dirty.

It's true; I'm in the zone, here. Memories of doing this with Tanya, and even my father, flit through my mind. "I told you; I love this stuff."

I get him to help me find shells, and he chases me around the beach, threatening to smash my castle if I don't allow myself to be caught.

Instead, I fake him out and shove him back into the water, taking advantage of his surprise. He splutters and I shout in laughter, jogging back to my construction site with handfuls of shells and seaweed.

After a few minutes, I realize he never rejoined me. I look around, spotting him way down the beach. It looks as if he's hunting for shells again, so I let him to it.

My shoulders begin to hurt a little, and I touch my skin gingerly. Time for more sunblock. I quickly reapply a thick coat, meeting Edward as he returns from his walk.

"More shells?" I ask, tossing the lotion back to my bag.

"Something better." He holds out his hand. "Sea glass."

"That is so pretty!" Delighted, I reach for the assortment of blues and greens, but he holds them out of reach.

"It's for your castle."

* * *

I take a billion and one pictures of our masterpiece, and a couple more of us. Alec and Jane's parents take pity and offer to take a proper shot of the two of us, which we do, even posing with the kids, who make silly faces and throw sand.

Once we've gotten our fill of the beach, we eat a late lunch and prepare to leave. I carefully pluck each and every piece of sea glass, as well as several of the shells, off of the sandcastle and put it all in my beach bag. I can already see it in a glass jar back home, sitting in a windowsill, aglow in the sunlight.

A text comes through. It's Daddy. Apparently Uncle Marcus and Aunt Renata are having a barbeque out by the pool to celebrate our last night, and he wants to make sure I'll be there.

"Do you want to come?" I ask Edward. "There's going to be a ton of food."

He takes a long time to answer, making me nervous. "I don't want to intrude," he says finally. "Sounds like a family thing."

"You won't be intruding," I assure him. "I want you to be there."

Again, he pauses. I'm sure he's going to turn me down, but then he glances at me. "All right."

There are a lot of cars parked at the house by the time we make it home. Edward parks down the block and then escorts me inside. He seems nervous, but that's to be expected. I don't like forcing him to "meet the parents", especially when our relationship is what it is, but I know this will be casual.

Tanya sees us first, and she doesn't hide her surprise. I ignore her, though. It's not my fault she ruined her own last night.

We make our way through the light crowd on the patio, finding the food table packed on the other side. Aunt Renata graciously loads a plate for Edward while I fix my own, and even my Uncle Marcus behaves, despite his apparent distrust of all males who aren't related to us. Meanwhile, Daddy and Uncle Riley are thick as thieves at a table in the corner, eating burgers and nursing beers.

"Might as well get it over with," I tease Edward, who just smirks and wipes his hands on a napkin. We toss our trash and walk the perimeter of the patio.

It's all rather anti-climactic. Because while my father and uncle are pleasant enough, they both seem distracted. Extremely. They've been distracted a lot lately, I realize. After a quick introduction and a few pleasantries, we escape to the house.

"Let's go upstairs," I suggest.

Edward looks back toward the barbeque. "You sure? I don't want you to get in trouble."

"You won't. Come on."

I pull him through the kitchen and up the stairs, past a sulky Tanya. She gives me a look, but I just tell her to alert us if anyone comes to check on me.

Inside my room, I lock the door, kick my shoes off, and drop my bag to the floor. I got so much sun today my skin still feels hot, and on a whim, I open the window, craving the breeze. Edward sits on the edge of my bed, watching me. His tan is pretty dark, too.

"So, what do you want to do on your last night?"

"You."

He laughs quietly, cocking his head. "Oh, yeah?"

I nod, walking over to him and climbing onto his lap. He locks his arms around my waist and gazes up at me. I lean forward and kiss him, licking my tongue along the seam of his lips. He opens to me, returning the kiss with one of his own. One tumbles into many until there's no stopping, just one continuous kiss. He slides his hand up my back and into my hair, grasping it. Tugging gently, he draws my head back and starts kissing my neck; wet, open mouthed, making me hot inside.

Outside, the faint sounds of the barbeque drift up – music, laughter. Edward palms my cheek, bringing my face back to his. "I love the way you smell," he murmurs.

Slightly breathless, I force my eyes open. "You do?"

He nods, adjusting me on his lap. I reach down and grasp the hem of his t-shirt, lifting it up and over his head. I run my hands over the warm, smooth skin of his back. "I'll miss you when I'm gone," I whisper.

He closes his eyes, nodding again. "Yeah, I know. I'll miss you too."

I swallow back the sadness and focus instead on the beauty of right now.

* * *

The mosquito netting that drapes my bed posts is practical, but it's utterly lovely, too, falling down around us in a gauzy swoop. It feels like we're protected, like as long as we stay right here, nothing else exists. And I don't want anything else to exist. I want to believe that what we have is real, that even when tonight becomes tomorrow and that becomes the next day, we'll have this.

Fingers clasped lightly behind his neck, I pull myself closer still. His fingertips trail up and down my sides, making me shiver a little, tickled. I'm nervous, in a good way. Anticipating.

Mutually fascinated.

"You're beautiful."

I look at his mouth, his lips. It's he who's beautiful, but I say, "Thank you."

He shakes his head slightly, and then comes at me with another kiss, angling his mouth against mine so that we fit. His hands spread over my back, fingertips tracing my shoulder blades and down, rough against smooth, stopping right where my bikini bottoms start. And then back up, warm and welcome.

The purple-grey of dusk darkens into night, and I reach over to turn my bedside lamp on.

In the new light, we stare a each other for just a second before the kissing resumes, and now it intensifies. The sexy, meandering making out of before morphs into something passionate and driven, and I can feel him now, trying to pull back like always.

I'm grateful for what he's trying to do, because I can tell he cares about me and respects me, but stopping is not what I want. Without leaving the the hot and sweet of his mouth, I tug the ties holding my bottoms closed. The fabric gives, and I pull it off completely, leaving myself naked in his lap.

He exhales harshly, holding me at arm's length. My heart speeds, and my hands shake, and I'm wondering if he's with me on this, and then he looks down. His breathing picks up.

I slide my fingers through his hair, still rough with salt from the sea. He brings me close again, drawing my nipple into his mouth. He kisses everything he can reach, my ears, shoulders, neck, always coming back to my breasts. I nearly collapse from way it feels, and I can't stop moving against him, craving the feeling.

"Yeah?" he asks eventually, the backs of his knuckles grazing where I'm wet.

I nod, and he manages to get his shorts off, leaving him naked in my bed.

Kissing.

Hold me close, closer.

So close. The only way he could get closer would be to get inside, and he's about to be. Back and forth, he eases me over, getting him wet with me. He feels so good. This is right; it's what I've wanted. He's close, and then he's pushing inside. It's a struggle, and it's painful, but he breaks through.

I've done nothing but accommodate Edward, but I'm panting, my heart racing. His face is buried in my neck, breath tickling my hair. It hurts when I rock against him now, and he stays my hips with his hands.

"Why?" he asks, breathless. _"Why didn't you tell me?"_

"I don't know," I say.

_Maybe I thought you could tell. Maybe I didn't want you to say no._

"You should've said something." He's almost pleading, looking up at me.

"Wouldn't have mattered."

"It would have mattered," he insists, looking conflicted. "To me."

"You're all I want."

"You don't know what you want." He says this quietly, and I wonder if he's trying to calm his body down. But I don't want him calm; I want him to burn like me.

"Don't say that...I do know. Love me," I beg, kissing his face. I start to move, wincing a little, and he moves with me, slowly, carefully. "I want you to love me. Please..."

Our lips touch, and then our tongues, and it's like he's everywhere.

He holds me so close I can barely breathe, and then he shows me what it's really like.

I fall apart in his arms over and over.

* * *

The first time I see him come, I forget both the ache in my heart...and the one between my legs. It's erotic and gorgeous, and even as I acknowledge my need to recover, I want him again. I want him to want me again, and when his eyes lock with mine, I know he does.

"Stay," I say, not letting him up.

He relaxes against me, kissing my forehead. "Okay."

"Take a shower with me," I plead, biting his ear.

Tickled, he squirms and laughs. "Why can't I say no to you..."

"Because," I say, kissing away the bite.

_I could never say no to you, either._

We fool around in the shower, and then back in my bed. He goes down on me because I might be too sore for anything else, and I come so hard I beg him to be inside me anyway. He obliges.

And when I fall asleep, there's not a place on my body he hasn't kissed.

* * *

**so here we are.**

**thank you, thank you, thank you for reading, and for reviewing. i love it. i love you!**

**_*Let it Be - Blackmill_**


	9. Chapter 9

**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**_Edward_**

* * *

It's gradual, this transition of night into day. Darkness becomes shadows, shadows become shapes. Dreamy wisps of half-light manage their way through a mostly closed window, illuminating bits of Bella's hair like the angel she probably is.

I've lingered here too long.

Ignoring the urge to touch her, I ease out of bed and get to my feet. It's hard. The heaviness within is crushing, and even taking a deep breath is a task. Regardless of what I do now, no matter which way I go, I'm letting someone down, hurting them, betraying them.

I stand in the middle of the room, unsure for the first time. Well, that's not quite true. I've been unsure about this since the first time I kissed her. Before that I'd never felt _great_ about my choices, but I'd never regretted them, either. They'd always been justified in the long run.

Justified. Until I kissed this girl.

Going to the window, I close my eyes and listen, trying to pick out any sounds that might mean the difference between escape and capture. It's early enough, though, that the world is still asleep. Maybe, if I was normal, I'd be asleep too. Asleep, in bed, with a warm girl beside me. A girl like her.

Regret is a savage thing, lacerating from the inside.

I don't bother checking my phone until I absolutely have to, knowing Emmett's out there, most likely freaking the fuck out by now. Sure enough, it's vibrating as I fish it from the pocket of my shorts, the latest of many missed texts.

_Where are you?_

My hands are shaking from both nerves and the need for nicotine. I glance around the room, trying to regulate my heartbeat and breathing – anything to avoid looking at the sleeping girl a couple of feet away.

_Give me a minute,_ I type back, returning my phone to its pocket. I pull my shorts on, and then my t-shirt, which I find under the bed. Her scent is all over it, making my stomach hurt. If the longing is this bad now, I shudder to think what it'll be like when there are thousands of miles between us.

The sheets rustle. She moves, half hidden by swoops of fluffy white fabric. I'm absolutely torn in half; fight or flight. Fight for her or ...flight from her? Love or safety?

_Love?_

I almost wish she'd wake up and catch me, save me from this. But she doesn't, and even if she did, there would remain a ton of lies between us. The deception is too deep, even if my feelings are true.

My phone vibrates, against my leg now. Time's running out. I know it by the rapidly lightening hue of blue in the room, the increasing sense panic in my veins.

Again, I turn toward the window and pop the screen from the frame, resting it on the floor. One last time, I glance back. Maybe this is how a heart breaks. It isn't depressing and slow. It's furious and fast, excruciating, a vice grip squeezing it lifeless in seconds.

Drawn back to her side, I stare down at her, at the faint flush of her cheeks even in sleep. Her dark but sun-streaked hair wild against white sheets, her skin soft and now off limits. She might think she loves me now, but she'll hate me soon, and I'm glad for it.

Because no one can possibly hate me as much as I hate myself.

* * *

The last dregs of the adrenaline I needed to sneak out of Bella's house evaporate, leaving me exhausted. Patting my pockets, I mentally assure myself that my wallet, keys and phone are exactly where they need to be. I've already checked two, three times. But it never hurts to be sure.

A flock of birds bursts from the canopy of trees overhead, flapping wildly in the thick silence. Far away, I hear the tell tale rumble and groan of garbage trucks making their rounds. A black Audi idles quietly at the curb about a block up. This used to be one of the high points, when I'd be so close to completion I could taste it.

It's lost its luster in the wake of losing things that are considerably more important.

I walk slowly, knowing my brother's inside, watching impatiently in the rearview mirror. The sun peeks over the horizon. I say nothing as I get into the car.

"What the hell," gripes Emmett. "You're late, man. Pushing it." I know him, though, and his ire is tempered by excitement.

It's what we live for: the thrill of the conquest, the achievement, the goal. And, of course, the money.

Beside him, Rosalie beams like the sunny blonde she appears to be. "Whatever; he's here. Let's go."

He doesn't need to be told twice. Emmett pulls away from the curb, reaching his fist back to hit mine in greeting. I feel like I could puke. Ignoring him, I close my eyes and rest my head on the cool glass. Now that I'm gone, I want to put as much distance between myself and that house as possible.

"Rough night?" Rose asks quietly.

I open my eyes just enough to see her looking back at me, concern softening her face. She is the only one who understands, the only one who gets it. I nod slightly.

"Can't have been that bad, right?" Emmett asks. I know what he's implying: that I spent the last few hours enjoying the fringe benefits of the job. It wouldn't be the first time.

It would be, however, the first time it meant anything to me.

There is nothing I can say right now, so I remain silent. I love my brother, and I'd do anything for him, for but right now, fair or not, I resent him. I resent _us_, our choices. My choices.

He used to be the one, the bait. That was before, though. Before getting engaged, and before I was old enough. Back then Rose was my babysitter, the one who took care of me while Dad and Emmett worked. Now Dad gets to chill while Emmett does the dirty work.

Or, depending on how you look at it, while _I_ do the dirty work. Because while our father is the mastermind and Em's the thief, I'm the accomplice. I prepare the way so that Em can get in, get the goods, and get out.

I hustle, I con, I seduce.

Call it what you want. I whore.

* * *

Emmett frowns at me from across the table. We're at a truck stop diner, minutes away from the marina. It's a new one, far away from what we've always used. Em chose to move the boat a couple of days ago after discovering I'd taken Bella to it. _Stupid, _he'd said. _What's wrong with you?_

I look at my phone, my real phone, the one that I've had for months and not the one lying at the bottom of a lake somewhere. It's nine o'clock. By now, Bella has found my note. Her father might even be awake...and if he is, he definitely knows he's been screwed. He's not the saint his daughters think he is, but he's not all bad. I don't know how I feel about him, though. His choices put his family in danger...but then again, it's his family that encourages those choices. They're all crooked.

Guess Bella and I have that in common, too.

An unnaturally perky waitress brings breakfast for Emmett and Rose: toasted white bread and runny eggs, home fries, bacon and sausage swimming in grease. I stir blindly at my coffee, not interested in actually drinking it.

Bella runs through my mind on a loop: things she said, things she did. Her toenail polish - it was always different, like every day. The way her cheeks turned pink when her sister teased her, or if I did. The way she looked up at me between kisses. Dancing with her. I got too close, too close. I was messy, sentimental – I didn't even erase the pictures on her phone like I was supposed to. It was supposed to be like I never existed; at least, that was the idea. But I couldn't.

Once she figures out what I've done, she'll probably erase them anyway in a effort to forget.

With a huff, Emmett drops his fork. It clangs obnoxiously, splattering egg yolk on to the placemat. "You've gotta snap out of it, man. I know you liked her, but... shit. It's over. It was a job. You don't _actually_ date your mark, and if you do, you don't fall for her."

He sounds so much like Dad right now it's sickening, but I know it's his way of keeping above the fray of emotional involvement.

As if he knows what I'm thinking, he continues, "I'm just saying. You know Dad's gonna know something's up. He's not gonna want to hear this."

"Em," whispers Rose. A frown mars her beauty queen face. Around us, the din of nearby conversations and clattering silverware fills the gaps of our tense, stilted discussion. Music pours from a jukebox a couple feet away, making the moment feel even more unnecessarily melodramatic.

"No, man, he needs to know..."

"Right." It's the first thing I've said all morning, and my voice is raspy from disuse and tiredness.

"Okay?"

"Not okay." I shove my coffee away and lean back in the booth. "But whatever."

"Don't look at me like that," he says, sighing.

"Like what." It's hypothetical; I don't really care.

"Like I killed your puppy. You knew the deal when we started..."

"Em, leave him alone," Rose says, squeezing his arm. She glances at me for just a second before raking her fork through her eggs, pretending to be really into breakfast.

"No, I –"

"No, Em, really," I say, getting up. "Leave me alone. I'll be in the car."

I walk out into a day that's disintegrating into gloom before my eyes, ash colored skies as overcast as my thoughts. It's humid, sticky-hot already. Exhaust leaks from idling Mac trucks; dust kicks up after the ones that are rumbling away. Combined, they burn my nostrils. It's the shittiest day, a karmic kick in the ass. It doesn't matter that I deserve it. It sucks.

It couldn't be more different than the last two weeks. Two weeks spent hanging on and around the beach with a girl so legit I couldn't have made her up...long, dark hair and big brown eyes, creamy skin that tanned gold the longer I knew her. All those curves, and the way they felt beneath my hands.

The way she smelled.

The way she sounded.

The way she felt inside.

_The way she felt and sounded when I was inside._

They were probably the best two weeks of my life, and quite possibly the worst, because I fell in love with a girl I then ruined. And in letting her love me I ruined myself. I have no one to blame _but_ myself.

Emmett appears as my side, Rose right behind him. I don't look at either of them, but I sense that maybe Em really does get it. There are times I worry he's taking after Dad, but he always comes through in the end. Besides, if I'm really being honest, I know Rose wouldn't let him be that guy. Ever. They stand there, not saying anything, but then Rose takes the car keys and lets herself into the car.

I feel Emmett turn toward me. Exhaling, he punches my arm lightly, same way he's done since we were kids. He's more of a conversationalist than I am, but when it comes to matters of the heart he gets awkward, and that's fine. I tend to get withdrawn, so it's not like either of us really know what we're doing.

But this is his way of saying he feels me, and though I'm kind of inconsolable right now, it means something to me.

He ruffles my hair, wordlessly tugging me into a hug.

And then I do something I haven't done in months, maybe even years. It's not much, and it's silent, but it burns anyway.

I cry.

* * *

_***Summer Skin - Death Cab For Cutie**_

thank you for reading, you guys. every time i post a chapter, there's always this nervous little sense of...i don't know. just, i'm glad you're feeling this story, and i appreciate the reviews and discussion. also, ff net has decided to make it really tedious to answer reviews, lol, so i will continue to answer sometimes but other times i can't. hit me up on FB or twitter, though.

much love.

xoxo


	10. Chapter 10

_**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**_

* * *

**i was going to do another EPOV, but then decided it worked better like this. the EPOV is written, though, so that will come soon. maybe tomorrow.**

* * *

I don't know how long I stay in this bed.

Even though my room's dim and closed up, I can tell by the light forcing its way through the cracks in the window that it's getting later. My mind swirls with images of last night. I keep seeing his face, and other parts of him. His hands, his hair. His mouth, his back. I keep feeling him; phantom caresses and the considerable soreness between my legs. That I'm glad for. It hurts, but the pain grounds me, keeps my ever-churning thoughts from turning me into seafoam, carried away by an ocean of heartbreak melancholy.

I'm contemplating taking a long, hot shower – my last in this house – when Tanya comes in. She looks better today, rested. Scrutinizing me, she leans in the doorway, arching an eyebrow. "Did he stay all night?"

My insides tense. I stretch out underneath the covers, trying to work out the kinks in my muscles, the pain in my stomach. "Yeah."

"Did you..."

"Yeah."

She smiles, covering her cheeks. "Oh my God, Bella. Wow. Were you safe?"

I suppress the urge to roll my eyes. Our mother never got the chance to give me the sex talk, and then Charlie didn't seem to want to do it when the time came. Somewhere between fifth and sixth I got it from Tanya. So I'm not surprised she's asking me this, as if we're on an episode of DeGrassi or something.

"Yes, we were."

"Good." She nods, then squints at me. "You okay, though?"

"I'm fine, just. You know."

"Yeah, I do know. You're depressed we're leaving." She blows her bangs from her face. "This is why holiday flings are a gamble, you know? You go for a hook up and end up wanting to marry the guy."

I know she's trying to help, but she doesn't know the whole deal, and all of this is just making me feel worse. She chats on and on, uncharacteristically chipper for the morning hours. She's probably already had some coffee, something I could really use.

"...crazy, huh?"

I look up at her, realizing I've been zoning. "Sorry; what?"

"I _said_, Uncle Riley told me about the safe. Crazy. There was no sign of forced entry, and the safe looked like it had been opened professionally. Kind of creeps me out, imagining that shit going down while we were sleeping."

"Or maybe before," I blurt. It's compulsive; I don't even know what I'm saying. "Maybe during the barbeque? Or before that even."

"Huh." She nods. "That would make sense. I think we all know the kind of company Uncle Marcus keeps."

We share a knowing look. She's right, of course. Still, deep in my heart, I have my own theories about who opened the safe. My lie of omission stabs at me. Maybe one day I'll tell Tanya everything. But not today.

_Is that all it was? Was I just an easy way in?_

I avert my eyes, gazing instead at my dress from the night before. It's on the floor, near the night stand, right where I peeled it off and left it.

"Still, though," Tanya continues. "Can you imagine? Safes like that are near impossible to open."

"That is weird," I agree. "So, the police came and everything?"

She frowns, shaking her head. "Actually, no. I don't think they did...but I've only been up for a little while."

Something feels off, and when our eyes meet, I realize we both know it. A second later, she slips back into her room, leaving me alone again.

I want so badly to look at the pictures on my phone, but I don't. I can't look at his face right now and see what I thought was truth, now sullied into lies.

And, I also want so badly to delete them.

But I don't do that, either.

* * *

Saying it out loud makes it real.

So I say nothing.

Instead, I watch my uncle's house get searched from top to bottom. It lasts for hours: the phone calls, the muffled arguing from downstairs, the tension. The police never come, and by early afternoon, things have calmed somewhat. Outwardly, anyway.

I look out at the window as I finish packing, wondering if my father is still going to come home with Tanya and I today. It's gloomy out. Kind of like how I feel.

Thinking about Edward too much makes it more real, too, so I do my best not to. There's way too much going on today; the last thing I need is to cry. Not here, not now. For a minute, I'm tempted to go down to the beach and see if he's working. If he did what I think he did, though, he won't be there. He'll be long gone. I can imagine the look of pity on Tyler's face if I were to start asking around for Edward, and it's not something I care to see for real.

So no beach. I've had enough to last me awhile, anyway.

Meanwhile, Tanya definitely seems to have recovered one hundred percent from her "break up". She flits between my room and hers, helping me pack when she finishes first. She doesn't try to talk to me about last night again, knowing I'm bummed out about leaving Edward today.

Little does she know it was definitely, definitely he who left me. But again...I can't deal with that. Not here.

Not now.

Instead, I think about the money Daddy lost in the burglary. Why he even had that money down here, I don't know.

Why he even had it, period. I can only imagine. The possibilities, suddenly, are endless.

Tanya sighs, closing my blinds as we prepare to leave. "Another car just left. Can you believe this?"

"No." I shake my head and sit on the bed. "So the cops never came. Why is that? Why didn't they call them?"

"Dad and Uncle Riley are cops."

"You know what I mean. A crime has been committed; the normal thing to do would be call the local police, file a report."

She stays silent, picking at her fingernail polish.

I take a deep breath and decide to give voice to the suspicions niggling at me."Do you...do you ever feel like, I don't know. Maybe they're all into stuff? Not just Marcus?"

Tanya looks at me, biting her lip. I half expect her to laugh and tease me, saying I'm being a paranoid nutcase, but she doesn't. She sits down next to me and shrugs. "I've wondered that for years, Bell."

"What?" I whisper, slightly panicked she's actually agreeing with the notion. "Why didn't you ever say anything to me?"

"Why would I?" she asks. "I had no proof of anything at all – I still don't, by the way – and I didn't see the point in freaking you out."

"Still wish you'd told me," I say, indignant that she would keep those kinds of concerns from me.

"And said what?" She laughs humorlessly. "Whatever. Come on, lets just go home."

We finish up, making the beds and closing the doors behind us. Leaving is bittersweet, and I feel so unsettled, like there is so much left unfinished. Part of me wants to flee and never look back, but another part seeks answers. And then, some of me wants to linger, soaking up the good times and memories, thoughts of Edward. My heart clenches.

Downstairs, Daddy, Uncle Riley and Uncle Marcus are on the patio, talking heatedly. Aunt Renata is putting the finishing touches on a plate of sandwiches. "Hey girls. I wanted to make sure you ate before going to the airport."

I go to her, wrapping her up in a hug. "Thanks, Aunt Ren."

Tanya joins us, and we squeeze her until she starts to laugh, kissing our cheeks. I'm sorry we'll be leaving her company; it's always good to have family around.

"Sorry your last day is...hectic," she says, releasing us. "This is awful."

Tanya and I share a glance, but we say nothing as we sit down and eat.

* * *

By the time Daddy drops us off at the airport, I can't help but wonder who he really is. He's always been a hard worker, spending a ton of time at work. Tanya and I grew up loved and provided for, but it's not like he was around all the time. Looking back, I see years through different eyes. The money we've always had – never excessive or ostentatious, but certainly way, way more than a cop would make. Right?

Daddy always taught us to budget accordingly. Tan and I have always had our own separate checking accounts, as well as savings accounts we weren't allowed to touch until we were ready for college. Now I wonder if that was done as a safeguard in case shit went down. Was he protecting our interests?

_Of course he was. It's all he's ever done for us._

Thinking about it hurts almost as bad as Edward. I wish I could be numb. I understand now why people chase chemical highs; life hurts, sometimes. Hurts so badly it feels like it's killing.

"Bella Marie?"

I blink, looking at my father. We're at the curbside of Miami International Airport, right outside departures. He's got the back door of the car open, and he's waiting for me. My heart sinks. He's definitely going to stay behind to figure out what happened. He's been so secretive all day, tightlipped whenever Tan or I asked questions. I know, I just _know_ something's up.

"Come on, Bell."

"So you're staying, I guess?" I ask, allowing him to pull me out.

He wraps me in his arms and kisses the top of my head. "Just for a day, to try and figure this out. Won't be long." After a second he lets go, holding me at arm's length so he can look at me. "Don't worry. I'll be home in time to help you move your stuff to the dorms."

"Okay." I force a smile and hug him one more time.

My phone buzzes in my purse. I step aside to look at it as Tanya goes to say her goodbyes, my stupid heart thumping hopelessly for someone I'll never hear from again. And I'm right. It's just Lauren, asking if I Tan and I are going to need a ride from the airport once we've landed. I respond in the affirmative, thanking her and chatting with her via text until Tanya taps my arm. Daddy tugs my hair and gets back into the car, giving us a wave. He's smiling, but he's so stressed out; I can see it in the tightness around his eyes, the stiff way he holds the steering wheel. I swallow the lump in my throat as he drives away, his car quickly swallowed by the dozens of others hurrying through.

We pick up our bags and walk into the terminal, leaving the noise, heaviness and heat for the cool, controlled chaos of the terminal. I follow my sister to the counter and check in, feeling as if I'm moving on autopilot. Probably noticing how out of it I am, Tanya takes over like always, gently leading me through security and then on to our gate, where we sit down with matching cups of overpriced coffee.

"Do you want to talk about him?" she asks carefully, peeling the lid from her coffee and blowing on it.

"There's nothing to say," I murmur, closing my eyes.

Tanya's a lot like Daddy. She doesn't hover. "Well, I'm here if you change your mind."

I open my eyes. We look at each other for just a second before she pulls her Kindle from her carry-on and starts to read, leaving me to my own thoughts.

I grab a book and try to do the same, but my mind is everywhere but here, my thoughts so scattered, so fractured, it's like a bomb went off inside. I read the same sentence over and over, knowing I don't want to read but feeling obligated to at least try. We have two flights to catch between here and home. That's a lot of down time, and I'm afraid to be alone with my thoughts.

Time drips by slowly. Announcements are made. I can't pay attention to anything, and everything is warbled. We get on the plane, where I wish I was old enough to drink. Or comfortable enough to sleep. Anything.

It's not until way later, an hour into our second flight, that it all catches up to me. The physical and emotional exhaustion, the dissolution of any pretended strength. All around me, people are sleeping, and those that aren't are reading quietly or watching movies. The cabin's lit softly, and it's so soothing that my defenses fall before I fully realize what's happening.

I'm so, so tired.

My phone is in my hands and I'm scrolling like mad, looking at those pictures like a woman possessed, unsure of what I want to see. Our new-love-glow and then-happiness is a punch to the gut, and another to my heart, bruising me viciously, allowing me finally to really cry. I'm a horrible person, even wanting his love after what he did. I'm weak, and soft, and pathetic. Convinced. Brainwashed.

And yet, looking at his expressions, his eyes...it was real. I know it was. Or was he just too good at what he did? Was it me he was lying to... or himself?

_Did he love me? Does he love now?_

* * *

_* **This place is a Shelter - Ólafur Arnalds**_

_**really, listen to this one. all of his stuff (all of 'Living Room Songs', **_**_especially) is atmospheric and lovely and sad._**

**_thank you for reading. xo_**


	11. Chapter 11

_**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**_

* * *

**Edward**

* * *

There's a reason my father always takes the boat. It's easier to disappear that way, and harder to be traced. And it's quiet – there's no fanfare. No airports to stress through with their laundry list of security measures. No trains or cars, which can be so confining. Don't even start with buses. Sailing into the proverbial sunset is always the way to go.

It's always been sailboats, even when things were not so nefarious. Back in the day, when I was a kid, Dad took us all the time. We've always lived in coastal areas, so it was something we shared with him from day one. My mother had loved it, too, and weekends and holidays always found our family on the water. Em had gotten into it even more than me, but it had always been something I'd enjoyed. My memories of those days are nearly idyllic.

Then again, we hadn't been running away from anything back then.

These days, the boat is good for escape. We're never running from the law, because we never steal from law-abiding citizens. The cash, the riches – they're always ill gained. Always shady. No fool's going to call the cops to report missing jewels or wads of bills they have no legitimate explanation for having in the first place.

No, we're usually on the lookout for people who are just as elusive as we are. It's a constant game. Thankfully, we've always covered out tracks, and we've always acted as go-betweens. Meaning, we're usually contracted to do what we do. Dad's got a lot of connections; people trust him. They know him. None of the jobs, as far as I know, have been personal, so unless one of us slips up, there's no reason to trace anything back to us.

Sailing away afterward has always been peaceful.

There's nothing peaceful about how I feel right now.

To add to my shitty mood, weekend days at the marina's parking lot are a nightmare. We circle several times before finally finding a recently vacated spot, pulling in seconds before someone else does. Emmett will leave the car here as he usually does, and later on someone he's paid off will return it to the nearest rental agency.

The marina's bustling with activity. Everywhere I look, I see happy people – couples, families, groups of friends – loading coolers onto sailboats and keeping small children from tumbling off the dock in their exuberance. Seems like everyone's smiling, excited for a day on the water despite the clouds.

I'm not smiling. Our trip is about evasion and survival, not pleasure.

How has Dad lived like this for so long?

It was an adventure when I was younger. Ignorance really is bliss, because once I was introduced to the truth of what we did, my sense of excitement changed from something open and free to something dark and calculated.

Rose stops walking abruptly, allowing a kid walking a dog to cross in front of us. I almost run into her, and she glances back at me, eyes soft with worry.

"Sorry," I mutter.

She smiles a little, squeezing my shoulder, and turns to the dock, where my father is aboard our boat and busy at work. I haven't stepped foot on it since the night I brought Bella onto it, and my heart cramps as I follow Emmett and Rose now. My bags are already here. Everything is already in place.

I was the last detail, and now that I've been collected we can go.

"How'd it go?"

Blinking, I run my hands through my hair, holding it away from my face as I look up at my father. "What?"

He squints at me, sucking halfway through a cigarette before plucking it from his mouth. "I said, how'd it go?"

"Fine."

"No complications?"

Emmett's been keeping him abreast of things, and I know they've been in close contact this morning, so I'm not sure why he's even asking me. And the past couple of days? They haven't exactly been easygoing. We've had more disagreements about our methods...about Bella...in the past two weeks than we've had in years.

Instead of answering, I shrug.

"Something you need to get off your chest?" he asks evenly.

Emmett glances over at me from his spot across deck. He's got a good poker face, but I know him well. Right now he's worried because of my meltdown earlier. He knows I'm wavering.

"Yeah." I nod once. "I'm not doing this."

"Doing what?"

"This. I'm not doing this again." Brushing past him, I jog down to the bedroom, where our stuff is. My bags are on the floor, an envelope with my cut tucked carefully into the front pocket of one. I toss that on to the bed and take only my bags. I can't take that money.

I wouldn't take it even if I were broke. As it is, though, I'm not. There's money in an account my father knows nothing about. He could easily find out, of course – he makes a living by stealing, and sometimes that includes hacking – but I'll have it cleaned out by the time he tries. I turn to leave, but he joins me in the cramped space below deck, seeming, like always, bigger than he really is. We're the same height now, with nearly the same build. While Em took after our mother, I always was the _spitting image of Edward!_ When I was younger, and our family was a happy whole, that filled me with pride. He'd been my hero, then. Now I just resent it.

"Talk to me. What exactly is the problem, Edward?"

His calmness is typical. I'm not sure if it's a byproduct of the lifestyle, or simply the way he's hardwired... it might even have something to do with Mom's death. I don't know, but it's gotten worse as the years go by. He's past cold, past callous; he's impenetrable. I look at him and see how decades of getting over on other people can strip a person of their humanity.

"Is it because of her? I thought we'd moved past this...infatuation."

"Don't talk to me about her."

"You never took issue with it before, so leave your self righteousness at the door. She's just a girl; they're all just girls."

This is what he does: cajole and convince, twisting words and intentions until it's impossible to tell which way is up. It's one thing watching him inflict it on other people, quite another when he's doing it to me.

Like I'm a mark. _His_ mark.

The worst thing I could do is engage with him. My mind's made; I don't have time to waste. "She's not just anything. But whatever. I'm gone." Shrugging him off, I go back up to the deck. Emmett and Rosalie are talking quietly, but they straighten up when they see me, questions all over their faces. I take a deep breath and exhale slowly, trying to center myself. "I'm going. I need...to not do this anymore."

"Ed, man. Come on. Give it a couple days. Let the feelings die down a little."

"Em."

"Never make big decisions in the heat of the moment," he continues, sounding like a self-help book or something.

"Emmett. I'm leaving."

"Edward..."

"Let me know when you're ready to stop doing this." I step carefully onto the dock again, leaving the only family, the only life I've ever known.

Dad appears behind Emmett with my envelope. "Forget something?"

"I don't want that."

He folds his arms. "You're really going to leave? Just like that? Where're you going to go?"

"I don't know."

"You leave, don't bother coming back. We'll be gone."

Emmett's face falls, and he looks right at me, silently begging.

I can't say Dad's words don't cut right through me, because they do. It doesn't matter that he's a prick, that he's selfish and insensitive and almost cruel. He's my father, and I love him.

Unfortunately, parts of me are starting to hate him.

I almost let Bella go the night she told me about her mother. I'd gone to my father, demanding answers. _Did you know? _

_Of course I knew._

His impassive reply, the way he'd brushed it off as if it was inconsequential...it had killed me. He knew what Mom's death did to me, what it does to me still, every day. I know that losing her devastated him, and I know Em misses her a lot, but sometimes I feel like it's always been different for me. She and I were close. So close. Did Dad really think having me go after a motherless girl would be okay? Did he think I wouldn't find out? That it wouldn't affect me?

Does he think I'm that cold?

Of course he does. And why wouldn't he? I've been schooled by the best, and I've been proving just how well I've mastered the family trade for over a year.

So, things between us have been tense since that night. My convictions have weakened, and actually falling for Bella didn't help. Emmett's known. Even before I said anything to him, he could see it. He knew my heart wasn't in it this time. I'd hoped, at first, that he'd see things my way, but he's always been Dad's wingman. Instead, he talked me down when I would call him, depressed and frantic because I was going to burn in hell for this.

_Call it off. Tell Dad to call it off._

_A couple more days, Ed. You can do it. We won't have to work for months..._

I'm walking away, blindly pushing through the people littering the dock. Feverishly hot and so tired it hurts, I make it to the parking lot and stop. My car's gone, back in storage, and I can't take the rental because I need something under my name, not Dad's or Em's.

"Edward."

I spin around, not that surprised Emmett has followed me. He gives me the envelope of cash, forcing it into my hands when I try to refuse it.

"Take it," he snarls, red-faced with frustration. "Just...damn. Why didn't you tell me it was this bad?"

"Why couldn't you tell?" I shoot back. "What part of 'I don't want to do this' did you not comprehend?"

"Is she really worth it?" he asks, waving his arms. "Worth leaving? We're all you've got, and you're all we've got. This is us. This is _family_."

"No, actually you have Rose." An idea comes to mind, and I open my backpack, shoving the envelope inside. I know exactly what I'm going to do with it.

"She has nothing to do with it," Em says.

"She has everything to with it," I say, scoffing. "If she left, you'd follow."

"So you're gonna follow Bella Swan?"

"Bella Swan hates my guts right about now. It's not...she's not the reason I'm leaving, okay? But maybe she was the catalyst. Maybe she opened my eyes."

"How is she so much better than the others?" Unlike our father, he's not accusing me of anything right now; he really wants to know, probably partly because he has a history of this, too.

I think back over the four marks I've had. I did sleep with one, but we'd been fall down drunk, and she'd kicked me out of her bed as soon as it was over. She'd been kind of a Tanya type – drop dead gorgeous but a total man eater. At least, that's how I justified it then. But feelings I've suppressed for years come to the surface now. Feelings like remorse. It doesn't matter what that other girl was like. Her flaws don't excuse my sins.

And Bella. She was all heart. She let me in. And I...let her in.

"I don't really know," I confess. "She's just a girl, but we clicked. She..."

"It's just sex," he insists.

"She was a virgin, Emmett," I say, trying really hard not to blow up. It's not him I'm mad at. It's me.

But his eyes widen fractionally. His reaction only digs the stake deeper. "Oh, shit."

"Yeah."

"So why'd you do it, then?" he asks.

"Well, I didn't know."

"Really?" He looks at me skeptically.

"Yeah, really. I...couldn't tell...until. We were going slow. And half the time she was the one trying to go further... I tried to keep her at arm's length for awhile but it was hard. Last night she wanted to, and I really wanted to." I rub a hand over my face. "And then we did and I realized."

"Good sex messes with your head," he says carefully, realizing I'm touchy about this. "Especially if you already like the girl."

"I've been feeling this way since before I slept with her. Last night just solidified it."

He shakes his head, not wanting to see it. I know he does, though.

This is what went down with him and Rose, years ago. He'd just come home from a job he and Dad had been working down in L.A. Rose took one look at him and burst into tears, slapping him when he tried to come any closer. Up until that point, they'd remained "just friends" despite a couple of hookups here and there. Despite the physical stuff, though, they talked _a lot_, becoming so much more than associates or bed buddies or even best friends. Emmett didn't have to tell me he was falling for Rosalie; I could see it. And I could tell she loved him, too, which is why I wasn't surprised when she reacted the way she did that day.

Dad didn't like it when Em decided to step down, but he dealt with it, probably because he knew that when I was old enough, I'd step in. We traveled around for awhile, doing smaller, albeit lucrative, jobs like hacking into accounts. When Em and Rose got together, she actually started helping out, and by the time I turned eighteen, she was part of the family.

She's never liked that I had to do what I did, or, let's be real – that I chose to do it – but she's never passed judgement, either. She's in this for Emmett, and if he decided to quit and go work a nine to five, she'd be down with that, too.

"I don't know, man. I just..." I close my eyes, trying to sort my thoughts but it's hard. I didn't sleep last night, and it's messing with my head on top of everything else. "Part of me wishes I'd never met her, because she'd be safe from me. But the other part is selfish, you know? I'm glad I met her, because the time we spent was the best. I don't deserve that, but I have it anyway."

We stand there for awhile at least, watching people come and go. I think about Rose back on the boat with my Dad, who's probably doing busy work to kill time until Em returns. Leaving the safety net of my family scares me, but I can't see myself getting on that boat and going down to the Caribbean or wherever the hell, drinking and relaxing like all's well. I can't.

"You should go," I say, nodding at Em.

He nods, blue eyes cloudy. "Will you keep in touch, at least?"

"Eventually. I need to disappear for awhile, though."

"All right." He takes a step closer, and we meet in a tight hug. Leaving my brother sucks, but I try not to focus on that right now. There are other things that hurt way worse, anyway.

We release one another and part ways. I don't look back, and I'm willing to bet he doesn't either.

No looking back. You do what you have to do. Always.

And that's it.

* * *

For the first time in my life, I am completely alone. It's intimidating.

I call a cab. I'm told it'll be a fifteen minute wait, so I go to the front of the marina and wait. As usual, it's intensely hot. I tell myself I'd be better off in a cold climate, someplace different than Florida in every way.

I hate that I know Bella's number. I hate that I look at the buttons on my phone and see myself dialing her, even though her number was usually on the 'recently called' list.

My cab pulls up, and I give him the address of a nearby Enterprise, probably the same one our other rental will end up at. I figure driving's my best option, allowing me maximum flexibility and independence. I won't have to submit to anyone's schedule but my own.

An hour later, I'm in an SUV I can already envision myself sleeping in if I get desperate. At first, I tell myself I'll only drive as far as the next motel. But then I drink a large Red Bull and catch a second wind, and I drive for hours and hours. Headed north, over busy highways and empty country roads, welcoming the sunset and then the soft, blue deep of nightfall. Out here stars glitter brightly, the way they do above the emptiest open spaces.

Eventually, hunger sets in, and I pull into an all night McDonalds. While eating, my exhaustion returns with a wallop, and it's all I can do to drive to the Comfort Inn next door, pay for a room, and pass out. I sleep deeply, completely missing check out the next day. It doesn't matter; I don't even know where I'm going. I pay for one more day and go back to McDonalds, where I load up on more junk food.

It's there, halfway through a large fries and vanilla milkshake, that I pick up my phone and call the one person I always said I'd never call.

It rings three times before a familiar voice answers. "Hello?"

I haven't spoken to him in years, but hearing him now feels like it's been no time at all.

"Hello?" he repeats.

Suddenly my heart's racing. If this doesn't work out, I don't know what I'll do. I clear my throat. "Uncle Carlisle?"

Now he pauses. The background noise shifts, like he went someplace quiet. "...Edward?"

I bow my head, eyes closed. "Yeah. It's me."

* * *

_***Ice Monster - Minus the Bear**_

_**thank you for reading, and for letting this unfold. all the questions! i love it. the answers will come, but slowly..like an IV drip.**_

_**xoxo**_


	12. Chapter 12

_**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**_

* * *

_**A Lack of Color - Death Cab for Cutie**_

* * *

It's cool in Seattle, crisp, the sky a glowing grey of a rainy night over city lights.

Seconds after Tan and I emerge from the terminal, Lauren pulls up to the curb, waving wildly to get our attention. She yanks the car into park and jumps out, spouting off about our wicked tans. I can't help but smile. It feels really, really good to be home. As amazing as Florida was, it's over, and the sooner I can get back to my _real_ life, the better.

But a niggling voice in my head reminds me that concepts like "real" and "normal" are indeterminate. For one thing, my home life will never be the same in the wake of discovering Daddy's possibly nefarious second life.

And for another, while it took me mere days to fall in love with the boy on the beach, it'll take much, much longer to fall out of it.

So, nothing's normal, and I guess I'll just have to take my life one day at a time.

But Lauren's real, and she's here, and she's as much of a sister to me as Tanya. "You got bangs," I say, reaching out to touch her silky, light blonde hair. "Looks good."

"I was so sick of the other look," she huffs, slamming the trunk shut once our bags are inside. "My forehead's too big for that."

"I like your forehead."

"Shut up, Bella Marie," she practically sings. She's peppy for this time of night; I wonder if she hit up Starbucks on the way. "Tanya, get in the back. I need to talk to my girl."

"Hello-Lo. Thanks for the ride. And, screw you too," Tanya says breezily, sliding into the backseat. She's already on her phone anyway, jabbing rapidly at the keyboard.

Lauren adjusts the volume on the radio as we pull out into traffic, chatting a mile a minute about everything we've missed since we've been gone. Tanya joins in after awhile, but I just sit back and let the familiar lights and landscape welcome me home.

* * *

Walking into my bedroom for the first time in nearly three weeks is surreal.

It occurs to me that while everything here is the same, _I'm_ different. And, so, nothing's the same. I look at the pictures on my wall, trace my fingers long their slightly curling edges. In the next couple of days I'll pull them carefully down, cataloging which will go into an album and which will decorate my dorm room. For now, though, I just look.

A group of crystals and clear, pretty gems dangle along my picture window. Tomorrow they'll shift as they hang, catching the quiet Seattle sunlight and popping it back onto the wall like prismatic confetti. I'll have to be sure I take those with me to my new dorm room. I hope they'll get good light there.

Unbidden, my mind returns to the sea glass in the bottom of my beach bag. Stomach in knots, I unzip one of my bags and turn it over on the bed, ignoring the sand that sprinkles out. The sea glass tumbles out eventually, blue and green like little fragments of the ocean. I pick the pieces up, turning them over in my hand. It's weird to be holding this here, so far away from the place, and the memories, I got it from.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I carry the sea glass to my window sill and rest it there. I'll get a jar for it later. For now, I just want to look at it.

Mail I got right before leaving clutters my desk, held partly down by books I was reading. I rifle through it all, remembering pre-vacation life as I do.

"Everything okay, Bella?"

I turn to Tanya, who's paused in the doorway. "Yeah. Just tired. It's been a really crazy few weeks."

"It has indeed," she says, arching an eyebrow. "You still miss that boy?"

She's being purposely light about it, and really...she's barely pushing, but it's more than I can handle. Tears burn my eyes, and I turn away. "Don't. Not right now."

She's quiet, but I sense her coming closer. Her arms wrap warmly around me, and she pushes her face against mine, cheek to cheek. "I know it hurts, babe. And I'm sorry." She kisses my nose before letting go, eyes shining brightly from unshed tears of her own. "I really am. I...I know you fell in love with him. I don't mean to downplay that."

I sit on the edge of my bed, staring at the floor. I remember being little and having lavender carpet. _Lavender_. I'd loved it. And then turning fourteen, and deciding pastels were babyish, and getting hardwood installed instead. Daddy has always, always provided. Even when it was more whimsy than necessity.

"But you know," she continues. "I think he fell in love with you, too. I don't think you saw the way he looked at you, Bella."

Unsure if this makes me feel better or worse, I sit stock still, listening intently. My mind works to conjure up the pictures Tanya describes, as if by seeing some sort of evidence, I can make myself believe what I want to.

Although, I have to wonder if my sister would be so generous with her opinion of Edward's affection if she knew my suspicions about the safe.

"I mean, I always caught him checking you out," she laughs quietly. "Because he wanted you. But besides that he looked at you like...he was _fascinated_ by you." Sighing, she gives my shoulder a squeeze.

"It caught me off guard, I guess," I say. "He was the last thing I expected."

"That's always how it is," Tanya says, nodding.

"I just wish...I feel like I had no closure. And yet, if I had to do it all over again, I'd change nothing." Even as I say it, I can feel how true it is. Regardless of what I might know, and the painful implications of it, my feelings stand. I know they're irrational and stupid. But I can't just turn them off.

Not for the first time, I'm grateful that my classes at UW start soon.

Tanya clears her throat, moving toward the door. "Let's get pizza or something tonight. I'm too wiped out to do anything else."

"Me too," I agree, getting up. "Pizza sounds good."

Daddy calls in the morning, saying that he'll be in later in the night, and not to bother picking him up. He's got plenty of friends in the area, so I don't concern myself with it.

Meanwhile, Tan and I are in moving mode. I know I'll always have my childhood bedroom to come back to, and I find comfort in that as I pack up my life. Still, it's a sentimental task, and I find myself becoming wistful and nostalgic as I make my way through year's worth of stuff.

At one point I find a stack old CDs, mixes my friends and I made and traded in high school. There's even one from Jared Cameron, which is just weird. Listening to them brings me back to simpler times, and I'm grateful for that. As I pack my last box, I notice the sea glass again. I run downstairs to the kitchen, looking around for a decent jar. Sometimes we save them, depending. A single jam jar sits among the clutter of drinking glasses in one cabinet. I pluck it out and give it another rinse, making sure it's clean before putting my treasures into it. Then I pack that, as well as the crystals from the window, into a box layered with bubble wrap and tissue.

Tanya's room is strangely quiet. I look in on her, unsure if she's even home. Maybe she's sleeping.

But she's not. In the late afternoon light, she sits at her window, gazing out. I'm about to say something when I realize she's on the phone.

"I know," she whispers. "I miss you too. And I'm sorry."

Tyler, maybe? If it's him, I'm a little surprised, but perhaps I shouldn't be. I saw myself how well he and Tanya got along.

Heavy hearted, I back out and close the door silently before returning to my bedroom. I can't believe we went down to the beach looking for fun and good times, only to return with wounded hearts. I can't say we didn't have an amazing time, because we did. We just got way more than we bargained for, and I wonder how long it's going to take before we recover.

* * *

The next couple of days pass in hyper-speed.

Daddy and I help Tanya take her stuff to the new apartment, and then they help me move to my dorm. Within one week I'm living away from home. Despite the fact I'm only about twenty minutes away from where I grew up, sleeping in a different bed feels funky. The light in our dorm room comes in differently, although still brightly enough for my gems, and the building smells different. Not bad, just not the same.

Lauren and I are evenly matched when it comes to decorating and neatness. It's why we chose to live together without Alice, whose parents were able to get her a single. It's for the best. Her obsession with having an immaculate, clutter free environment is enough to break down even the sanest person. I adore her, and I have since seventh grade, but I can't live with her. She comes over all the time, anyway, or we go to her, and in some ways it's like always.

Classes start. I throw myself into my studies, determined not to be so swayed by my emotions. I keep feeling like I'm getting over him, like I'm moving on in my perfect new life, but then something catches me: a strain of a song, the scent of something on someone passing by me...and my heart clenches, reminding me.

Our first weekend on campus, I'm invited to a frat party by this kid in one of my classes. I bring both Lauren and Alice, and thanks to jello shots in every color of the rainbow, we manage to get wasted. At least, I do. My friends get suitably drunk before removing me from the premises and bringing me home. The next morning I'm hungover and cranky, and I realize that I'm even more depressed than I thought I was.

Depressed and pathetic.

The front door opens and closes. Lauren strides in with Alice right behind, cups of coffee and brown paper bags in hand. I sit up, watching Alice procure a bagel. "Here," she says, thrusting it, and one of the cups, into my hands. "Good to see you in the land of the living."

"Thanks," I mumble, trying to ignore my rolling stomach.

"I'm still a little surprised you got so drunk," she says, smirking. "I mean, usually you pace yourself."

She's teasing the way we always do, but I'm not feeling it today. I'm surprised I got that drunk, too. I mean, I party...but I've never been the type to act up in public. Tanya, maybe, but not me.

Slightly nauseated, I sip gingerly at the hot liquid, pleasantly surprised to discover that it's actually chai or something. "Mm, this is good. Thanks, Al."

"No worries." She unwraps her bagel and takes a little bite, humming quietly as she eats. Lauren plops down onto her bed, eyeing me. "So...you almost kissed that guy...actually he almost kissed you."

"What? Which guy?" I grimace as hazy memories of the night before float to the surface. It gives me a sinking feeling inside.

"You know, your frat friend? Ember?"

I roll my eyes. "Embry."

"Yeah. Well. I'm not too sure abut him, Bella. He knew you were hammered and he still tried to cop a feel."

"Really?" Frowning, I think about the cute, mellow guy from class. I guess you never can tell. "I don't know. Was it really that bad?"

The girls give me two versions of the same incredulous look. Alice puts her cup down. "Seriously?"

"Well, that's that, then. No more frat parties."

"We don't have to completely stop, I'm just saying be careful. I –"

"No, I know. I just..." God, I'm so tired. And so tired of being tired. "I didn't really want to go in the first place."

"So why'd we go, then?" Lauren sits criss cross apple sauce, chin balanced in her hands. It's a simple question, but it's her way of gently asking what's up.

I put my cup down and press my fingers to my eyes.

We went because of this misguided need for me to feel _normal_, like my life hadn't just been bulldozed by some kid whose face haunts my heart. I've wanted so badly to just move on – after all, that's most likely what he's done – but maybe it's too soon. Maybe I do need to allow myself time.

Lauren stays quiet, for once. She knows me really well, even better than Tanya. Over the years we've gotten good at reading one another's moods, so I'm sure she can tell something happened when I was gone.

I feel bad that I've been so evasive.

"I met a guy."

She nods slowly. "At the wedding?"

"At the beach." I fumble around my nightstand, looking for my phone. Ignoring recent messages and tweets, I open my photo folder and scroll to the first one of him. It's from the night he took me dancing. Biting my lip, I hand it over to Lauren. Alice leans over her shoulder, peeking at the screen.

Her blue eyes widen a little. "Um, wow. Who is he?"

It feels good to finally be talking about this. I smile a little at her reaction; she's always been more boy crazy than me, although I can't say I'm too far behind. "His name's Edward. We spent a lot of time together."

"I bet you did," Lauren says with a soft laugh. Shaking her head, she goes through the pictures, asking questions about each one.

_At the beach. _

_That's outside his house._

_He works there. Can you imagine? Working on the beach._

_This cafe in downtown Miami. Maybe I'll show you one day._

_His car. _

_His profile. _

_His smile. _

_His eyes._

The oddest combination of relief and heartbreak washes over me, and I lie down again, blinking back tears.

"And this?" Lauren holds out my phone again, showing me a picture of him sleeping. Our eyes meet, though, and when she sees that I'm crying she and Al both slide off her bed and join me on mine. "What happened, Bella? I don't know if I've ever seen you like this...did you give it up to him?"

"Yes," I cry, sobs wracking my body. It's been building for...for weeks. Since before I left. Since the very thought of leaving him caused me pain. Since our bittersweet last night, and since the confusion and betrayal the morning after.

"Babe," she whispers, face crumpling in sympathy. She puts my phone aside and curls up beside me, pushing my hair from my face. "Why didn't you say anything? This is a big deal!"

"I know, I know," I whisper, nodding. "I just, I miss him. A lot. And I'm stupid because I knew the whole time it wasn't going to last. I knew it. But I wanted him anyway."

"What about him?" Alice asks. "Do you think...he felt the same way?"

This is the million dollar question, isn't it? I squeeze my eyes shut. "I don't know. I thought maybe, but...I don't know."

"Have you spoken to him since you guys came back?"

"No."

Now Lauren frowns, confused. "Why not?"

Sitting up, I take a deep breath. I twist my hair into a bun, and I take a sip of tea. "If I tell you guys something, you have to promise not to tell anybody. Promise me."

"You don't even have to ask," Alice says, grabbing my hand. "Of course we'll keep your secret."

Heart pounding, I nod. "I think he might be the one who stole my Dad's money."

* * *

This is why I love these girls. Like Tanya, they're fiercely loyal and protective, but unlike her, they're not quite as emotional. Actually, that's that's putting it lightly: they're not as hot tempered. If I'd told my sister what I'd just told Alice and Lo, she might be on the next plane to Miami, plotting all the ways she could hunt down and kill Edward.

I'm hurt, and I'm starting to get angry, but I think I love him. And while maybe I should, I don't want him dead.

Lauren finishes off her coffee and sits back down on her bed. "Here's what I don't get. You said he was gone when you woke up, right?"

"Right."

"Did you give him the alarm code or something? How would he have gotten out?"

I nod sheepishly. "He, um...had to get something from his car. He saw me enter it into the keypad thing when we went downstairs."

"Fair enough," Alice says, nodding. "It's not like you knew you had reason to hide it from him."

Lauren sighs. "I'm surprised you guys weren't worried about getting caught, though, with Charlie _and_ your two uncles were lurking around. That was kind of risky, just saying."

She's right, but it's not something I haven't considered. "No, I know. I guess...there was that barbeque. And everyone was up late, drinking, and when they came in I assumed they all passed out. I mean, it was dead quiet. For awhile. By the time he went out and came back in it was like two or three a.m."

"When do you think he took the money? And how the hell did he get into the safe? And why are you so sure it was him in the first place?"

"I woke up around eight or nine. I think we fell asleep around...four? I don't know. So, sometime between then. I have no idea how he got into the safe. Really. No idea." It's mind boggling just to consider. "And...I'm not sure it was him. But it feels like it was. For one thing, the timing. Who else could've been in the house during that time, and then gone?"

Lauren nods, pursing her lips thoughtfully. "True."

"He was always super secretive when we talked. Like, he'd tell me surface stuff about about his family and his past, but he never gave me details. I knew he was doing it, but at first I just thought it was because he was a player or something. And then I liked him too much to care. I just wanted to be with him."

"That makes sense," says Alice, the eternal optimist. "You spent time with him, I think it's safe to say you got a good reading on him."

"Yeah. And his note didn't help."

She smiles sadly. "Kind of romantic, though."

"No. Not when he's apologizing for either a fuck n' duck or burglarizing Uncle Marcus' house."

Lauren barks out a laugh, but her eyes are sad for me. "Damn, Bella."

"It's true."

"Maybe."

"Probably," I say, feeling the sureness of it all taking root within.

Talking it out, and with someone neutral like my best friends, has been good for me. I'm not naïve enough to imagine that this is it, and I'll be fine from here on out, but it's a start. Harboring these secrets – my addiction to Edward, my broken heart, my suspicions over the break-in – was killing me. I feel a tiny bit lighter.

"So Tanya doesn't know about all this, then?" Lauren asks.

"Not the stealing part, no."

"Yeah, don't tell her," she chuckles. "Maybe not ever."

"You don't have to tell me," I say. "She's crazy. Anyway, I think she's hung up over her own beach boy."

"Really?" Alice arches an eyebrow, grabbing a pillow to curl up with. "Do tell."

We gossip for awhile, stopping only to get dressed and go out for lunch.

It's the most normal day I've had in a while.

* * *

A week later, I pull into my parking space at school and hop out, shivering against the slight chill. A cold front is moving in, chasing away any remnants of summer. It's kind of sad, but I'm welcoming it, too. It's new, and God knows I need as much _new_ as I can get.

I hurry inside, stopping to check the mail in the lobby. There's a postcard from Bree, sent from her honeymoon in Greece. A phone bill, a flyer from some pizza place, a letter from from my Great Aunt Maggie. Shoved behind all of that is a slip notifying me that I have a package at the front desk. I'm tempted to leave it til tomorrow, considering I have a lot of work to do, but I decide not to. Locking my box, I return to the front desk, distracted by thoughts of the English paper I need to work on tonight.

The girl working there accepts my notice and ID, then ducks down to retrieve my package. It's not huge, but definitely too big for my mailbox, which is probably why it got sent here. I thank the girl and head upstairs, wondering if Lo's home yet.

She's not, but there's a note on our door, scrawled across the little message board we share.

_Study group at library. See you later._

_Xo_

Inside, I flick on the lights and toss my mail onto the bed. I change into my PJs, scarf down what's left of my chicken caesar salad from earlier, and settle down at my desk, ready to tackle my work. I'm right about to crack open my Philosophy text when the package on the bed catches my eye. Curiosity wins out, especially when I notice that other than my name and that of my dorm – Poplar Hall – there's no other information.

I open it, gasping when the contents spill onto my bed.

Hundred dollar bills.

Bundles and bundles of hundred dollar bills.

* * *

_**A Watched Pot - El Ten Eleven**_

_**thanks you so, so, so much for reading. i love hearing from you.**_


	13. Chapter 13

_**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**_

* * *

**Edward**

* * *

Carlisle clears his throat, subtly interrupting the silence we've been abiding in. "Does it feel the way you thought it'd feel?"

Heart calming from its recent pounding, I stare at the glass doors Bella just disappeared through, slightly stunned. Coming here today I'd hoped to catch a glimpse, but actually seeing her does something to me. It's surreal, two worlds colliding.

I glance down at the time on my phone, wondering if she'll check her mail now, if she checks it every day. The girl at the desk assured me Bella would receive my package. The skill sets I've developed over the years – hacking, _information gathering _as Em called it – made locating Bella easy. I knew she was at UW, and that she was a freshman. Narrowing it down to a building had taken me maybe twenty minutes online. Carlisle disapproved of my methods but what's done is done.

I could've gotten a room number, too. Could have, but didn't. I don't trust myself with that. It's bad enough I know where she lives. The image of her striding through those doors is burned indelibly into my brain, and I know that when I go to sleep tonight, I'll see it over and over again.

"Edward?"

"No...I don't know." Shaking my head, I finally look away from the building we've been sitting outside of for the past hour and a half.

"Not what you thought it would be?" Carlisle presses. He knows it isn't, but he's good about making me talk. Well, it's good in principle, I guess. It doesn't feel very good when he's trying to make me confront myself, my actions and my intentions.

I push my hands through my hair, feeling as direction-less as ever. I'd thought that giving my share of the money to Bella would've released me somehow. Absolved me. I'd hoped. And while I do feel good that it's no longer in my possession, there are other things I took from her that I can never return: her friendship, her trust, her virginity – which was a new low, even for me.

And, maybe worst of all, her love.

Carlisle squeezes my shoulder affectionately. "This wasn't easy, so...I'm proud of you."

"Don't be. It was an inadequate attempt to make things up to her."

"I know what it was. And you didn't have to do this, but you did."

"It wasn't even all of the money."

"No, but it was all of your portion. It might not change anything, but the gesture was made in good faith."

We've talked about this ad nauseum; he's saying nothing I haven't heard repeatedly over the past few days. I want to believe him, but I have a feeling it's going to be a long time before I feel like I can.

He knows only the bare bones of what went down between me and Bella Swan. To say he was disappointed, once I did tell him the story, would be an understatement, but we've been working through it. He knows I'm done with that life. He also respects my decision to keep my very recent criminal activity in the past, not expecting me to turn myself in or anything. Not that I would. I regret a lot of things, but I'm not going to rot in a damn jail cell, possibly dragging others down with me. No way.

Carlisle taps his fingers lightly over the steering wheel of his Mercedes. "Anyway, it's getting later. I'd like to head back, unless there's something else you want to do."

I nod, clearing my throat. "Yeah. Okay."

He pulls away from the curb. My stomach tightens as the distance between me and Bella grows. From the time I left my father and brother, two things have kept me going: my plan to return the money, and the hope that I'd see Bella again in the process. Now both of those things have happened, and instead of feeling closure, I feel increasingly more hollow.

Different. Everything's different, as if August was a dream.

We've traded the halcyon days of summer, with its brightness, love, and warmth for this cold, lonely separation, made worse by what went down. I can only hope that she accepts the money for what it is: a pitiful, but honest, act of contrition.

Rain starts speckling the windshield, prompting Carlisle to turn on the windshield wipers. Their rhythm lulls me under, reminding my body of how tired it really is.

Closing my eyes, I see Bella as she was when we were together. Little dresses, nearly-bare feet, hair wavy and long, blowing free at the beach. She always smelled nice, and she always felt nice...we were always touching. And, I see her as I did just now, in a soft-looking grey sweater and tight jeans tucked into boots. Her hair, pulled back into a bun. Already, she seemed so different than my beach girl, hurrying through an increasingly chilly day, arms full of books and papers and just...stuff.

Different.

I feel different, too. Changed. Meeting Bella Swan changed the trajectory of my entire life.

I wish I could tell her she stole my heart, too.

* * *

The drive back to Mercer Island takes forever thanks to traffic. In addition to the remnants of rush hour, a minor accident has slowed things to a crawl. By the time we're on I-90, it's completely dark out, and Carlisle has already called Esme to let her know we're running late. They're like two sides of the same coin, complimentary to one another and rarely apart.

Carlisle's my mother's youngest brother. Born a decade after her, he's always been the coolest of all my aunts and uncles, and the one with which I felt the most affinity. I have a lot of memories of him from when I was a kid. He liked to sail, too, and in fact, he still does. I wonder if we'll go once the weather starts to get warm again. I'm glad that won't be for a long time. I'm not quite ready to revisit that aspect of my life, seeing as I just left my Dad, Em and Rose on a boat.

I guess I fall asleep, because the next thing I know Carlisle's shaking me awake. We're in the garage, and as the door closes behind us, I hear rain roaring down, smacking wetly against the driveway. Yawning, I get out of the car and follow my uncle inside. The house is every kind of warm, from the soft, yellow lamplight to Ella Fitzgerald on the stereo. The smell of roasted chicken and cornbread makes my mouth water. By the time I hang up my jacket and make it to the kitchen Carlisle's already got his wife in a kiss, arms wrapped around her like it's been days instead of hours.

Coughing pointedly, I walk in and sit down.

Esme smiles softly at me. "How'd it go?"

"It...went," I say, shrugging.

"So you're all done," she says, turning back to the stove.

_Never._

"I guess."

I don't miss the glance that passes between them, but I pretend to. It's easier that way. Instead, I get up again, heading toward the room I've been given while I'm here. It's a stunning house, full of glass and wood. According to Esme, it's one of the oldest homes on the island. My room faces back toward the forest, a massive sea of towering green that runs as far as the eye can see.

It's been a long time since I sat so still for so many days, since my life wasn't mapped out for me. The lack of direction throws me off balance, but it's soothing, too.

My phone lights up with a text, and for a second, it freaks me out. It shouldn't, though because no one but my family has this number.

Emmett.

_Just checkin in, bro. Call me if you need me._

He's not just my older brother; he's my best friend and I miss him more than I thought I would. Knowing I'm on his mind is reassuring, though, like I haven't actually lost him. Makes it feel like we're connected. Still, we couldn't be further apart. He doesn't actually know where I am, because I haven't told him, and I won't. Dad and Carlisle don't get along. Carlisle reminds my father of everything he lost when Mom died, and Carlisle has always disapproved of Dad's criminal lifestyle, even though he doesn't know the full extent of it.

Coming to stay with him and Esme meant I had to give them answers, even about some of the more unsavory things. I tried to keep it vague, especially when Esme became visibly upset about the sex. I think she thinks I was coerced or something; I don't know. Either way, I didn't talk about it any more after that, and they let be.

Living here, I'll have to earn my keep. I wouldn't have it any other way. It doesn't matter that I've got money saved up; working hard at a "real" job to make an honest living is important – not just to my aunt and uncle, but to me. I'm still trying to decide what I want to do. They've offered to help with college, but I don't know if that's the path for me.

Academics are a big deal for them, though. Carlisle started med school with the intent of eventually becoming a surgeon, but somewhere along the way decided it wasn't for him. Instead, he turned his focus to theological studies, which makes sense; Grandpa, when he was alive, was a preacher.

Carlisle is not a man of the cloth, though. He and Esme are spiritual people, even attending church sometimes, but that's as far as it goes. No, his interests are purely intellectual, his days spent in research and writing. He has a PhD in comparative religions and philosophy, and he's been published several times in various journals. It's all very heady and deep and involved, his study packed with dusty tomes and notebooks.

Esme's a writer, too, but she writes mystery novels under a pseudonym. Whereas Carlisle usually stays in his study, she floats around with her laptop and coffee cup. I've seen her writing everywhere: the kitchen counter, the stairway, the picnic table down on the lawn.

It must be nice knowing what you want in life. When I try to think about what I want, only one thing comes to mind.

And she's the one thing I know I cannot have.

* * *

The next morning, I work out with Carlisle in the garage "gym" he's thrown together. I keep thinking of Emmett, and how much he'd love something like this. Afterward, we walk around the property. He points out various plants and projects they've worked on. Esme has a natural knack for landscaping and garden work, and she's passed the passion on to him. Apparently they work outside together a lot during the spring and summer.

We go back inside for showers and a late breakfast, and then he disappears into his study, leaving me on my own. I head back to my room, grateful for the alone time.

A couple of hours pass before I hear the faint sound of footsteps coming upstairs. Esme knocks quietly, even though my door is always open.

I look up from my laptop, quickly shutting it. "Hey, Esme."

"Hey, sweetie." She walks in hesitantly, giving me a sweet smile. She and Carlisle don't feel much older than me. I mean, they're _older,_ but not nearly enough to have kids my age. So while they're established in their careers and their relationship, they're still pretty young. It makes for an interesting dynamic.

With Esme, especially. I can tell she's wary of overstepping her boundaries with me. I want to tell her not to coddle me: this is their house and these are their rules. I'm completely dependent on their kindness. There's nothing she could say or do that would cause me to lose respect for her. I suppose our relationship will get to that point, though. It's only been a week.

"Everything okay?" she asks, sitting at the edge of my single bed.

Nodding, I slide the laptop aside. "Yeah. It's great. I like it here. I appreciate it..."

She waves me off, smiling. "No, no. Not that. I mean...how are you _doing_? Carlisle doesn't tell me much when it comes to you, but he's mentioned...things. I wanted you to know that I'm here if you need to talk about it."

"About what?" I ask, unsure. "Bella?"

"Is that her name?" she asks, cocking her head. "Bella. Pretty."

"She is." I drop my eyes, focusing instead on the bedspread. "She's beautiful."

"Have you tried calling her?"

"What?" I laugh incredulously. "No way. No."

Esme frowns. "Why not?"

"There's no way. I've done enough damage in that girl's life. She's better off without me, trust."

"You don't know that."

"With all due respect, Esme...and I mean that, because I really, really do respect you..._you_ don't know what went down. I don't think I could forgive someone for doing what I did to her."

"Maybe she's not like you."

"Maybe she is, maybe she isn't. All I know is that I'm no good for her. I've got baggage, and a shitty past...and she's...got plans. And potential. People who love her. I can't interfere with that. I won't. It would be selfish."

"Edward, with all due respect," Esme smirks, tossing my words back at me, "what's selfish is this act of self-preservation you've got masquerading as caring. You're afraid she might reject you, and, yes, if she did she'd be perfectly in her right to do so. Maybe she should. Maybe what you did was so awful there's no way. But maybe not. Maybe she misses you. Maybe, if nothing else, she deserves more than an envelope of money."

"I knew he'd tell you." I laugh to myself, closing my eyes.

"Did you ask him not to?"

"No..."

"Well. He tells me everything, just like I tell him everything. That's what you do when you love someone...you tell them the truth. Even when it's scary, or you messed up, or you're unsure. Full disclosure is the ultimate act of intimacy."

"There is no intimacy, Esme! I pretended to be someone I wasn't!"

"I understand." She nods. "But I think you'd feel better if you told her all of this."

"Why?" I ask, slightly desperate. All I want is to move on, as stupid as I know that probably is, seeing as I can't stop thinking about this girl or looking at her damn pictures, and now Esme's dangling these possibilities in front of me.

"Because...I'm a girl. And, I think that, if I fell for some cute guy at the beach, and things went wrong, and he ran away, I'd want an explanation."

"I think she knows by this point why we haven't met for coffee yet," I say dryly.

"Maybe." Esme shrugs, standing. She smacks my socked foot and leaves, simply saying, "Dinner in ten."

* * *

Weeks pass. Months. The days grow cold and even drearier, but it's welcome. Before my mother died, we lived on Mercer Island. This place has always felt like home, even when home was every place but here.

I work long days at a local seafood restaurant, waiting tables. It's natural for me, and while the view here is nothing like it was down in Florida, it feels good to see the water every day. I rarely leave the island, even when Carlisle and Esme encourage me to. I like it here. I feel insulated, safe.

At night, I take online classes. Right now it's a very general course load, but in the event I decide to actually go to college, I'll at least have some credits under my belt. This, too, is familiar. Emmett and I were always home schooled, so taking classes and tests online is second nature.

I think a lot about Bella. She's almost all I think about, even after all this time. I look at her Facebook, wishing I could friend her and see the whole profile. There are ways for me to do that, actually, but I can't bring myself to. I betrayed her trust enough when we were together; she doesn't need me hacking into her account like a stalker so I can spy on her.

I'm tempted to, though.

And then, one night, I'm having dinner with Carlisle and Esme when there's a knock at the door.

Frowning, Carlisle glances at me, and then his wife, before putting his fork down and standing up. Instinctively, I follow him to the front door.

Emmett and Rose. Behind them, the taillights of a taxi recede back down the drive before disappearing altogether in the rain.

Carlisle gathers my brother into a hug while Rose and I stare at each other from across the threshold. She's thinner than she was, but so tan she's almost reddish, from spending time on the boat.

But then Em's hugging me, and Esme is welcoming everyone inside. There's talk and a little bit of tearful laughing. I stand still, shocked, unsure of what I think or feel. I love my brother, but he represents the part of me I'm trying to leave behind.

Em introduces Rose, reminding me that she's never met anyone in our family besides our father.

"Say something," Em jokes, punching my arm. His expression is tired, though. Like his girl, he's lost weight, and for the first time, I see the wrinkles around his eyes.

We sit at the table, where Carlisle quickly adds two more plates for Esme to fill. "Hey. I just...I'm kind of surprised. How'd you even know I was here?"

"It was a gamble," he admits, glancing at Rose. "But I couldn't see you being anywhere else. It's been a little rough lately."

I don't know what's going on, but he'll tell us when he's ready, so all I say is, "Where's Dad?"

"Gone." Em shrugs, taking a sip of water. "We, uh...decided to head out, go our own way, when we got to Puerto Rico. Dad gave us the rest of our share and then left without saying anything. We flew back."

I sense there's more, but I don't press. Mainly because of Rose, who looks like she needs a good meal, a hot shower, and bed. She's way quieter than usual, and I hope it's just because she's tired.

After eating, Esme whisks Emmett and Rose off to a guest room while Carlisle and I clean up the kitchen. He says nothing to me about their sudden appearance, and I can only guess that he's as clueless as I am.

"I didn't tell him I was here," I say eventually, watching him start the dishwasher. "Not that I...was hiding. I just, I don't know."

"It's okay," Carlisle says. "I'm relieved, actually. It's been difficult since your mother died. I've wondered for years if you two would ever find your way back, and you have." His eyes shine with the glassiness of unshed tears, which kind of chokes me up, too. "We'll figure it out."

That's his phrase. He always says it, and, I'm trying to learn to believe it.

Sometime later, Em finds me in my room. Freshly showered and wearing sweatpants and an old t shirt I recognize from way back, he collapses on to my bed. "Damn it feels good to not be moving for once."

Laughing, I nod. "I know. I felt the same."

"So. How's things?"

I shake my head. "I don't know. I'm just kind of...surviving I guess. Taking online classes, working at this place on the waterfront."

"Yeah? Downtown?"

"No, here. On the island."

Emmett eyes me. "You ever go over?"

"Not really." I swallow, running my hands through my hair. "I, um, I did go over once to give her my cut."

His eyes bug out, and he sits up. "_What?!_ Are you out of your mind? That's like, admitting to your guilt!"

"I don't give a shit, Emmett. I'll run if I have to, but...I don't think she's gonna tell."

"A little cocky, don't you think?" he huffs.

"No, cocky was seducing a virgin and then leaving her once I'd helped rob her dad. This was me trying to make things right."

"It doesn't make sense."

"I don't care, Emmett. I really don't." I'm getting pissed off, so I get up and go to the window, staring into the wet, black expanse outside.

We're quiet a while. I almost think he's fallen asleep when he speaks again, his voice softer. "I have something to tell you, actually. About Bella."

I whip around, eyeing him. "What?"

"I've heard a couple things...about her father and uncles and stuff. I think shit's about to get real."

"With who? The Feds?"

"Yeah, man. As well as some of the shadier characters they like to chill with."

Emmett and my father always knew way more about our marks than I did. My knowledge tended to be superficial; just enough for me to do my job and get out. And that's how I wanted it. Now, though, I find myself hungry for every detail I can get out of my brother.

"So it's about to go down?"

"That's what Dad's friend said."

"Which friend?"

"Some guy down in Miami. I don't know. Anyway. Yeah, it's gonna be nasty. Charlie Swan and that other guy...his brother, Marcus...they've been making money off the game for years now, and it turns out they've been watching for awhile. If he goes down, he could take a lot of people with him, both here and down there."

"So what does Bella have to do with this?"

Em sits up. "Dad heard she and her sister might be used to buy Charlie's silence so he doesn't turn informant."

My heart slams in my chest. "Shit. How deep is Charlie in?"

He shakes his head, mouth flattened into a grim line. "Deep."

* * *

_***Passenger - Let Her Go (Acoustic)**_

_**thanks so much for reading. you guys rock.**_

_**xoxo**_


	14. Chapter 14

___**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**_

* * *

So, Edward's in Seattle. Or he was. Either way, the prospect of it both thrills and unsettles me. I want to see him, but I don't know if I can handle it. Not after everything that's happened.

And, judging by the way he got the package to me, he's not interested in actually seeing me, either. Otherwise he would've given it to me himself, or at least left something other than _I'm sorry _on the note. Had there been any doubt this was from him, it was removed the second I saw that familiar scrawl.

Sipping nervously at a bottle of water, I wonder incredulously how I ended up this way. It's as if I traded places with another girl, a girl with a crazy life full of drama and men who do illegal things. Why couldn't I have had a normal summer fling? A straight edge cop for a father?

Meanwhile, Lauren's been staring at the money for about an hour. She keeps starting to count it, and then getting distracted by the sheer multitude of it. That, and the fact Edward actually gave it to me. Returned it? I don't know. I can't exactly ask Daddy how much was taken.

"What're you going to do with it?" Lauren asks.

"It's guilt money," I mutter, attempting to sweep it into a plastic bag now that it's out of its neat little bundles.

"So what?" she breathes. "Let's spend some of it."

I purse my lips and ignore her, tying a knot in the bag once its full.

"Just kidding," she says.

"No, you weren't."

"Okay, I wasn't. But it could come in handy. Let's just say if I received a bunch of cash, I wouldn't be confused and crying."

"Lo."

"Alright, alright. Lighten up."

Pushing my hair from my face, I look up at her. "What about this feels light hearted? I'm in love with a guy I hardly know, and he's a criminal. My father is, apparently, a criminal. This money probably came from a crime. Me _having it_ is probably a crime. I –"

"Okay, drama llama. I get it," she says, making a face. She snatches the bag away from me and strides over to my desk, where she shoves it into a drawer before turning around. "I don't think this is the best place to keep it, but..."

"Well, I can't keep it any place else. I can't put it into the bank."

"Why not?"

"Don't they keep track of large transactions?" I close my eyes, shaking my head. "Of course they do. Dude, no. I have to hide this quietly. Maybe at home?"

"Home, as in Charlie's house?" Lauren asks, furrowing her brow. "What if he finds it?"

"Why would he go into my room?"

"Why wouldn't he?" she counters, folding her arms. "We know he's into some shit, Bella. He's capable of anything. No offense."

Sometimes I think I shouldn't have told her about the suspicions Tanya and I have about our father, but then I realize if I hadn't shared with someone I would've imploded by now. Lauren and I have always kept each other straight, and I know she'd never use the information against me. Besides, she lends me the levity I so sorely lack these days.

"No offense taken." Sighing loudly, I fall back on to my bed. "I'm just going to keep it here for now. I think these rooms are relatively secure, between the main door downstairs, and ours up here. Even if someone knew I had this, they'd have to be really determined to come in here." Just the thought makes me shudder. What was Edward _thinking?_

After a moment, I feel the bed dip a little. Lauren sits beside me, her legs tucked up under her. "Talk to me."

"Why would he give me this?" I whisper. "It's like he's paying me off? I don't..."

"I never thought I'd say this about you, but...maybe you're being too cynical, Bella. I know it sounds crazy, but maybe he just felt really, really bad for what he did."

"You're just trying to make me feel better." My voice shakes, and I hate it.

"Maybe." She shrugs. "But Tanya has said more than once that she saw how you and Edward were together. She seems to think he really caught feelings..."

"She doesn't know what he did in the end," I say.

"I know we've talked about this, but I still think you should call him."

"Would _you_ call him? If it were you?"

She shrugs. "I don't know. Probably."

"You say that now, but I doubt you would. I'd rather...just not know."

"Yeah, see, that's where you and I are different."

"Why? Because I'd rather not have my fears confirmed?"

"Basically, yeah. The not knowing would kill me." She shakes her head. "I'd have to know, one way or another. I don't think you'll be able to move on until you do know. It's like you're stuck in limbo."

"It's only been a few weeks. I just need time."

"Hey, I'll give you whatever you need. I'm just saying...this isn't going to get better by itself."

"You think I'm too passive," I say, frowning at her obvious disapproval of how I'm handling this. Or, not handling it.

"If by passive you mean calm and rational, then yeah." She rolls her eyes. "Come on, Bella. That's not what I'm saying. You don't have to be loud and and pushy to be strong – but I've never known you to shy away from the things you wanted, either. Being cautious is one thing, but I feel like you're actively avoiding instead of just dealing with it once and for all."

Exhaling slowly, I nod. She's right. "I just feel like... I took a chance with someone, and I got burned. Even if I did want to hear what he had to say, I just don't know if I can go there yet. It's still really raw, and I'm...I'm not that brave."

"You are that brave," she says, smiling back at me. Between her, my sister, and Alice, I've got the best girls. And I want so badly to believe what they're saying. I do. But I don't know if I can. All I have are memories, questions, and a load of conjecture.

Oh, and a lot of money.

Lauren twists her hair into a bun before letting it fall loose again. "Anyway, I could use some coffee. Wanna hit up Starbucks?"

I glance at the mountain of classwork waiting for me on my desk. I know I should get started, but there's no way I can concentrate right now. "Sure."

"Let me fix my hair and we'll go," she says, disappearing into our bathroom.

And then, staring at the drawer where we've hidden the money, I start to feel something other than sadness and leftover love. It descends like fog, creeping and settling within.

I feel resentment.

It feels good, and I welcome it, because until now heartbreak has left me weak and powerless, like I lost part of myself when I lost Edward...even though I never really had him at all.

But this tentative wave of anger is fresh, and it nourishes me. It builds me up, gives me something to push against, propel off of.

It gives me what I need to make it through.

* * *

The days grow increasingly shorter, grey interludes between cold, wet nights. Seattle starts to lose its leaves, and by the time November comes, the trees are little more than scraggly branches.

I don't spend much time with my father at all, but I tell myself it's to be expected. After all, I'm on my own now, living the single life of a college girl, busy with classes and social engagements.

And, I might feel a little guilty because of the money, which I still haven't touched. Then again, Daddy's always busy as well. Always..._working._ I see his insane schedule through different eyes now, but it's easier not to dwell on it. Like Tanya says, it's best not to ask questions we don't want the answers to.

The three of us manage to have dinner as a family once or twice a month, though.

It's after one of those dinners, on a frigid Sunday night, Tanya admits to me that she and Tyler have been keeping in touch. There's a good chance he'll be coming up the week of New Year's Eve, and perhaps staying longer if "things go well". She comes off as calm, but there's no mistaking the naked hope in her eyes.

To say I'm surprised would be an understatement. I never, ever imagined Tyler coming out to see my sister...or that she'd want him to. Tanya can be a "love 'em and leave 'em" type, so to see her this enamored with someone is foreign.

I'm happy for her. But I'm deeply envious, as well.

Because while I love college life, I continue to fill my time with people and places and work in a vain attempt to keep myself sane, to keep Edward in the furthest corners of my mind and heart, where he lurks but never leaves. He's infected me, and sometimes I hate him... but I almost always love him. Most late nights find me alone and remembering, longing for his touch.

Tanya knows this because she knows _me_, so I do my best to put on a brave face for her, sharing in her excitement over Tyler's upcoming visit. He really was a great guy, and I feel like he brought out the best in Tanya.

Daddy finds us chatting quietly in the living room. It's amazing how a few months living elsewhere has already made this space feel like someone else's, despite the fact nothing's changed.

"I wanted to talk to you girls before you left." He sits down across from us, setting his bottle of beer down on the coffee table. "Something's...come up."

We wait for him to continue, but he doesn't. Instead he frowns and fidgets, picking at the armrest on the couch. It's weird to see badass Charlie Swan look almost...sheepish. And scared. This isn't who he is. Or maybe it is, but it's a side we've never seen. As affectionate as he is, he's also always been a strict, albeit stoic, disciplinarian. It's a characteristic that has carried over into his job, making him respected and successful. Seeing him so unraveled is stressing.

Eventually, Tan sits forward. "What's up?"

"Promise me you'll listen to what I have to say. I don't want you two to get upset. This happens all the time in our department; it's protocol."

I glance at my sister, but she's frozen in place, her eyes glued to Daddy. "What is?" I ask quietly, bracing myself. He can say all he wants that this isn't a big deal; already his body language says something different.

"I'm, ah, being investigated. By internal affairs."

"Why?" asks Tanya.

"There have been a number of...inconsistencies over the years. Anyway, like I said - I don't want you to worry. I'm telling you mainly because this is probably going to go public and I want you to hear it from me first."

"Public? Do you mean, like, 'high profile'?" Tanya asks, furrowing her brow. Her voice is calm, but I think we all know she's seconds away from having a moment. "What exactly is going on?"

"Nothing I'm a liberty to discuss right now. But like I said, it's protocol. They do this all the time," he repeats, but it's as if he's reciting it – like not even he believes bullshit coming out of his mouth. The whole conversation squeezes my gut in a cold fist of dread. Looks like our suspicions were pretty close to the truth.

"Will you keep us updated, at least?" I ask, numb. "I think we deserve to know what's going on with you."

"No, Bell. Forget that!" Tanya stands abruptly, fists clenched. "_What the hell have you done, Daddy?" _I guess the months – no, years – of suspicion and secrets have finally taken their toll, because while I've seen her mouth off (and get grounded when we were younger) I've never her seen her talk to Daddy quite like this.

But he doesn't even flinch. He rises to his full height, looks her in the eye, and says simply, "you're on a need to know basis. And that's it."

"I need to know this," she cries, cheeks pink.

"Tanya." Sighing, he shakes his head slowly.

A tense silence falls between us. My heart pounds hard in my chest, the implications of what we've just been told sinking in. What does this mean for him, for us? As bad as it was realizing that he was up to no good, him being caught would be infinitely worse. He might be a criminal, but he's my father, and I can't lose him too.

Looking down at me, he reaches for my hand. I give it to him, and after a long moment Tanya begrudgingly does the same. He squeezes our fingers before letting go. "Not now, but soon. I promise. I just need you to trust me."

I don't see how that's even possible.

* * *

After saying goodbye, Tanya and I get in to our cars and leave, going our separate ways. A glance in my rearview mirror shows my father silhouetted in the doorway of the house. He usually always watches us drive away, but somehow tonight it's different. Each day I see him a little differently, and it breaks my heart.

Once again, the rug has been pulled out from under me. Up is down and down is up; my perceptions of right and wrong seem skewed. Daddy doesn't know about our suspicions, and he certainly doesn't know about Edward and the money, but _I_ know. And while the source of that money is dubious, it's obviously dirty.

From my lap, my phone vibrates and lights up with a call. I pick it up, knowing it's Tanya before she even speaks.

"You okay, Baby Bell?"

"I guess. I don't know. You?"

"Not really but...hey. What can we do, right? Just lay low and hope it all blows over?" She barks out a bitter laugh. "What a mess."

"I know." We drive for a minute, the silence between our phones a comfortable one at least.

"Anyway, I was just making sure you were all right. I'm gonna head over to Kebi's for awhile, watch a movie or something."

"Alright. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"'Kay. Love you."

"Love you too, Tan." We disconnect, and I make the rest of the drive to my dorm in a daze, wishing my world would slow down for just a minute.

* * *

I tug on my skinny jeans and jacket, sort of wishing I was curled up at home instead. It's not that I'm antisocial; I've been nursing a cold for about a week now, and I still feel a little lousy. But it's Alice's birthday, and celebrating with her, Lo, and a couple of girlfriends is something I wouldn't miss for the world.

Getting into clubs is easy enough, even though we tend to favor the twenty one and over venues. Equipped with fake Ids and the right clothes, we've been doing this since high school: we know what spots are are jumping on which night, who's got the best music, and which bouncers tend to give a hard time.

Tonight it's Trinity, Alice's favorite. We slip inside, leaving the damp, misty night for an ethereal wonderworld of sound and lights.

Lauren buys the first round of shots; I buy the second. We dance, sometimes in a circle, and sometimes with guys that ask. Some of them are cute, and I will myself to be receptive to their sly smiles and subtle touches. It feels good to be out, to be desired this way, even if I really don't feel the same way about any of them.

I'm on my way back from the bathroom when I'm met with a rather distressed looking Lauren. Immediately concerned, I pull her aside and yell above the music. "What's up?"

She shakes her head, looking back at the bright red couch where we've since set up camp. I look past her, trying to see what she sees, but all I see is a very tipsy Alice pretending to give our friend Maria a lap dance.

"Al?" I shout, gesturing.

Lauren shakes her head and leads me through the crowd, toward a cluster of white couches tucked into a nook.

"Is that him?" she shouts, all wide eyed.

Confused, I look at the people populating the couches. At first, all I see are the typical club kids: tiny dresses, perfect hair, the highest heels. Big, beefy guys with lots of hair product.

But then I see him.

And my heart stops.

It most certainly could be him. I haven't seen him in months, and he's looking down, the bill of his grey newsboy cap partly covering his beautiful face, but I'd know him anywhere.

To his right, a pretty blonde whispers in his ear. Watching their closeness cuts me to my core until I realize she's attached to the handsome, dimpled giant on _her_ right.

To his left, a young, blond guy with a beer gestures wildly, mouth appearing to go a mile a minute.

Edward sits in the middle of it all, hands clasped, shoulders slumped, face tilted down. He's dressed differently than I remember, in nice jeans and t-shirt, a light jacket and expensive looking shoes. And that hat. He looks...casual and wealthy. Older, somehow.

Nothing like the smiling cabana boy on the beach.

Lauren pokes me. "Am I crazy? Is that...that looks like him, right?" she asks. She's seen enough of his pictures to know, I guess. We're both guilty of obsessing. How she saw him in this crowd is beyond me, but I'm starting to understand that anything is possible.

Anything.

I nod haltingly, unsure of what to do. Part of me wants to go to him. I want to see his face up close, watch those green eyes focus on me. I want to hear his voice, let him seduce me all over again. Most of me feels like running, though, getting the hell away from here and pretending I never saw him.

He looks up suddenly. Our eyes meet, and he gazes back at me with an intensity that shoots an arrow through my heart. My stomach drops to my feet.

Startling the people he's with, he stands, and I take a step back, my breath coming in short, labored little gasps. Lauren grabs my hand, squeezing, and I squeeze back, trying to ground myself.

What is he doing here?

The blonde and her boyfriend have gotten to their feet too now, and they stand just behind him, staring at me like they know me.

Someone passes close, jostling me roughly, but I hardly hear the drunken _sorry_. I feel like I'm in a tunnel, and Edward's at the end of it. Seeing him here, now, in this place, is dream-like. It feels off.

Has he been in Seattle the whole time?

"Are you going to talk to him?" Lauren asks, sounding as suddenly-sober as I feel.

"N-no," I stammer, taking another step back, knowing that even as I try to retreat it's futile.

Whether he comes for me or I break down and go to him, this is happening.

* * *

***Marina & the Diamonds - Lies**

***M83 - Midnight City**

_**to whomever: as nice as it would be, i'm not non-confrontational. nor am i a thing like this bella. i'm more like SEI bella, if you must know. that's the fun thing about fiction. we get to create.**_

_**to everyone: thanks so, so much for reading. i love you fandom. (really! so much love.) let's make out *kiss kiss*. ;) if you hang out on twitter or FB, i'd love to chat and discuss (not just this story, but the many great stories currently posting. there's no shortage of good stuff to read, IMO).**_

_**xoxo**_


	15. Chapter 15

**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**Edward**

* * *

"Are we going somewhere?" Emmett asks, yawning. He works a lot, and he's always tired.

Days after arriving in Seattle, he got a job downtown at Pike Place Fish Market. He works his ass off despite the money he's got in the bank because, like me, he wants Carlisle and Esme to understand that he's left his life of crime for good.

And because Rose is pregnant.

They moved into an apartment on Mercer Island roughly a week ago, wanting to stay close to us. While sometimes I suspect Em misses the excitement of our past, I think it makes him feel good to be able to settle down and give Rose the things she needs. She's always supported him, even when I think it made her sick, and now it's his turn. They offered me the extra bedroom when they first moved in, but I turned it down so Rose could make it into a nursery.

I've been looking for a place of my own, anyway.

Emmett yawns again, wide. It's obvious he needs rest, so I just shrug and shove my hands deep into my pockets. It's Friday night: Bella and her friends often go out on the weekends. This is not information I want to know, but in discovering that she might be in danger, I've made it my business to keep tabs.

"Come on, man. What's up?" Em stands, stretching.

"I'm heading over," I say.

"Another night of stalking?" he teases dryly. "Don't let me stop you." He understands my desire to protect Bella, but I know he thinks it's potentially pointless. We might have lived the lives of con men, but this kind of stuff was never in our repertoire.

"I'll go with you," Rose says, slipping a thick sweater on over her shirt. Even dressed in layers she's beautiful. Her stomach is just barely beginning to show; only those of us who really know her can tell at all.

"Like hell," Em sighs. He puts down his just opened beer, though. He knows that Rose will come, for support. She and Esme treat me like a lost puppy these days. And if she goes, he'll go.

"Edward?" Rose touches my arm.

"Yeah. I just want to check in on her. We don't have to...spend the whole night. That's crazy."

It is crazy. All of it. I'm crazy. I don't know how long I'm supposed to do this, how long I'll let myself. I know that I'd follow Bella Swan for the rest of her life if it meant keeping her safe, but I also know that by doing this I'm prolonging my attachment to her.

Not that it's been abating anyway.

"Damn it; alright." Emmett gets up, heading toward his room. "Let me just...put some pants on."

* * *

It's not long before Bella emerges from her building, several of her friends in tow. I recognize a couple of them: the tall, thin blonde I have a feeling she lives with, the really little brunette who sort of dances while the rest of them walk.

Carefree. They all look just as they should, just as I'd hoped Bella would. I don't know if erasing myself from her life was the best decision, but I like to think that it was – despite what Esme says to me from time to time.

The girls pile into a car and leave. I follow behind at a safe distance, feeling like a creep. I'd feel worse doing nothing, though, so follow it is. They weave in and out of traffic, eventually pulling into one of those overpriced parking areas around Pioneer Square.

"I'll get street parking if you wanna just go in," Em offers while we idle at a stop light. I agree, and minutes later I'm standing in line, feeling like a douche. This kind of scene doesn't do much for me. For one thing, the music blaring out sounds very Top 40, and while I can dance to anything, this is cheesy as shit.

Ignoring the peacocking and posturing going on all around me, I focus on Bella and her friends as they near the front of line. Eventually they go in, so, at least they're somewhat safe.

_What am I doing?_

And, do I want her to see me? I'm terrified she will and terrified she won't.

I flash my ID, compliments of my brother, who makes fake ones that are more legit than real ones, and pay my way in. The familiar smells of cologne, alcohol, and sweat assault me the second I'm inside, and I take a minute to get my bearings. I get a bottle of water from the bar and wait for Emmett and Rose to come, hoping they're able to find parking.

"Edward?"

I turn around, surprised to see a guy I work with at the restaurant. "Hey, Jasper. What's up?"

"Not much, man. Just stopped in to see this girl." He smirks, nodding toward the bar. "She gets off at two."

I assume he means the bartender, a tattooed redhead who flashes him a smile before crossing to the other end of the bar. "That's cool. You heading out?"

"Yeah, unless..." He shrugs, taking a swing of beer. "You just got here, right?"

I like Jasper. We don't really hang outside of work, but he seems easygoing enough. By the time Emmett and Rose fight their way inside, I've graduated to beer. Jasper grabs another, too, and we make our way to a corner of the club. There are several dance floors, and I have no idea where Bella is.

She'll be here for awhile, though, so I'm not worried. Still, this is hardly a social visit for me, despite my brother and Rose, who are all over each other, and Jasper, who apparently gets _really_ talkative when he drinks.

In fact, the more crowded this place gets, the more alone I feel. All around me, people are hooking up, dancing, kissing, grinding. I remember taking Bella to that Cuban place in Little Havana, how she laughed when I spun her around and held on tight when I kissed her. Knowing she's this close to me now only twists the knife deeper; I'm as far away from having her as I ever was.

I see her once, dancing with someone. She's got that enigmatic little smile, and I wish I was close enough to see her eyes. Is she happy? She looks like she is.

I drink another beer. Two. Take a piss, breaking the proverbial seal. By one a.m. I'm on a gaudy white couch sandwiched between Jasper, who still cannot shut up, and Rose, who keeps asking if I'm all right. I ignore them both, staring at the lights flashing across the sticky floor.

Bella.

Bella.

Bella.

I should check on her again. Make sure she hasn't left without me knowing.

Who am I fooling? She's the axis I spin on - I just want to see her.

_For no reason. For every reason._

Glancing up, I'm met with a sight that absolutely stills my heart. Bella stands just feet away, staring at me like I'm both her salvation and her downfall. The girl beside her, the tall blonde, takes her hand, and it guts me. Because I did this to her; I made her afraid. I broke her heart. I know I did. Just as I've been nursing my wounds for the past few months, so has she. Every word Esme said to me comes back with brutal clarity, and the guilt I've worked so hard to suppress rises like bile in my throat.

I stand. She steps back, but she's as conflicted as I am.

We stand that way for awhile, oddly quiet in this obnoxiously loud space, and then she takes another step back. I move to go after her, but Emmett stops me, grabbing my arm.

"What're you going to do?"

I hesitate, and Bella turns, dragging her friend with her.

Shaking Em off, I push through the crowd, unsure of which way she went. Within minutes I see the blonde up ahead, standing with a small group of girls minus Bella. Heart racing, I go straight for her. She looks warily up at me, and I wonder what she knows about me, what Bella's told her.

"She needed fresh air," she says after a second, nodding toward the entrance.

I find Bella standing outside, arms wrapped around herself. She's leaning against the wall, eyes closed, face tilted toward the sky. Looking at her now, I remember the smiling girl on the beach, and how far she is from that in this moment.

The bouncer glances at her and then me, smirking as he turns back to the girl he's chatting up.

Taking a deep breath, I walk over to Bella and stand beside her, jamming my hands into my pockets. "Bella."

She opens her eyes just a little, side-eying me. Her face crumples, and she squeezes her eyes shut again. "What are you doing here?" she whispers.

This hurts so much more than I thought it would. I thought in letting her go I was freeing her. I expected her anger and her hatred, but her sadness is almost more than I can bear. I'mso out of my league; I've never been so tangled up with someone being this way.

I'm still searching for the right words when she straightens up, reestablishing the space between us. "For a guy who had all the right words, you sure are quiet now, Edward." Her eyes flash up to me for a sliver of a second. "If that's even your name."

"It is," I say quietly.

Her chin trembles. It's obvious she's trying her hardest not to cry. Again, I move closer, and again she steps away. "What did you do, Edward?" she whispers, staring straight ahead. "Why did you give me that money?"

"Because it's yours."

"It was never mine. It was my father's...who you...you stole from. You," she stops, gasping a ragged breath. "You used me. You lied."

"I know. You'll never know how sorry I am."

My words are so inadequate, and she calls me on it immediately, pushing away from the wall. "Nothing you say is real."

She won't look at me. Instead she starts slowly down the sidewalk. I think she knows I'll follow. I'll always follow her.

Fog has started rolling in, shrouding the street in haze. The streetlights struggle through the fog, giving Bella a silhouette that glows. Her hair slides loose from the knot it was in, falling down around her shoulders, and it's all I can do to stay a step behind her without touching. I wish I could make her see that she broke me, too.

But I have no right. I took away her choices, and I know that.

She comes to a slow stop, pausing, and I catch up. Her face is wet. I give in, wiping her tears with the back of my fingers, feeling my own eyes burn in response.

_I did this._

She catches my hand and puts it gently aside.

"I don't do it anymore," I say.

"So I was one of many," she says, still not looking at me.

"One of a few...for me. And the last. I couldn't do it anymore."

She looks up. "Don't say because of me. That's..." Shaking her head, she averts her eyes. She keeps doing that, like actually looking at me hurts her.

"It was because of you. Not just because of my feelings for you, but because you made me realize that the whole thing was wrong."

"I'm so glad," she says, bitterness lacing her words.

"I'm not asking you to forgive me. I just need you to know that I care about you. And I...I'm here for you. Always. I want to be here."

"Maybe I don't want you here."

"That's okay. But I'm here anyway. There are people that have their eyes on you and Tanya because of your father, and I can't let them hurt you."

"Kind of like you hurt me? Kind of like you had your eyes on me because of my father?"

Her words hit their intended target, making me feel like utter shit.

"Yes, and no. I...we were in it for the money. These guys are after money, too, but their methods are vicious."

"Whatever." She wraps her arms around herself again. "Is that why you're here? Because you're worried I'll get attacked or kidnapped or something? Would you have come to me otherwise?"

I want to tell her that I would have, but it would be a lie. I thought staying out of her life would allow her to heal, but now I'm wondering if that was wrong.

And Esme was right.

"I don't know."

"God, Edward." Her voice shakes. "You have no idea what you did, do you? You just...bulldozed into my life and made me feel all these things and then you just left. And you took things from me. My dad. You made a fool of me. I don't trust you. I don't trust anyone."

"You shouldn't trust anyone right now," I agree, taking my hat off. I run a hand through my hair, wishing I could find the right words to make Bella see that I have her best interests at heart even if I did mess up before. I know it's my fault; I've done nothing to earn her trust. But if she'd give me time, I could show her. Maybe.

I'm about to put my cap back on when she reaches up and touches my hair, hand trembling the slightest bit. "I miss you," she says, so quietly.

I don't even know what I'm doing. All I know is I have to touch her, I have to hold her. I _love_ her. Closing my eyes, I let her run her fingers through my hair before I wrap my arms around her. She feels just like I remember, even through the layers she's got on.

"I miss you, too," I say, pushing my face into her hair. It smells the same, and the realization makes my stomach hurt. I'd do anything for this girl. Anything.

She shudders, crying silently, and I hold her as close as I can.

Moments pass. She's quiet, and so am I. People pass by, their murmurs muted in the late hour. The fog comes completely in, swirling around us and everything around us. Her friends come to find her after awhile, pausing on the periphery.

Bella lets go of me. "I have to go."

I release her. It feels like loss, like I'm losing her all over again, and like maybe I'm just lost.

I realize the club probably just had last call or something, because people pour out, dispersing in every direction. Emmett and Rose, and, somewhat randomly, Jasper, approach cautiously, looking back and forth between myself and Bella.

I flip my cap back on and step back, doing my best to disconnect. I can't live this way. If I'm really going to help Bella, I have to be there for her the way she needs and not the way I think I need. Expecting her to forgive me right now, or at all, is ridiculous. Even now she's avoiding my gaze, allowing herself to be taken care of by the girls who are eyeing me, equal parts suspicious and curious.

Except for the little brunette. She walks right up to me, jabbing me in the chest.

"You really fucked up."

She's so drunk she's swaying, but she's right.

"I know."

"You really fucked up," she repeats. "But she can't get over you."

I look over her head, to where Bella stands with her friends, waiting. She's back to not looking at me, and when the little brunette stumbles back over to her, they all leave. The fog swirls and swallows them, leaving me alone.

Well, alone with Em, Rose and Jasper.

"Hey," Jasper slurs. "Sorry, man. Can I get a ride home?"

"Yeah. Let's go."

* * *

The next day I set up across the street, in my usual spot.

Bella steps outside her building and stops, scanning the street. It doesn't take long to realize she's probably looking for me, so I get out of the car and lean against it.

As soon as out eyes meet, she makes her way over. She looks determined.

"Hi."

"Hi," I echo.

"What are you doing?"

"Waiting for you."

She shifts on the sidewalk, shaking her head. "Don't bother."

"I get that you're angry, and I deserve it, but –"

"Don't patronize me, Edward. Seriously. We had something, and it was nice, and it's over. You've paid me, so you really, _really_ owe me nothing. Just go."

Her dismissal lodges like a weight in my gut. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because you're in danger. You and Tanya."

"Then go watch Tanya."

"I have someone else doing that." It's true. This kid we know from way back, Benjamin. He was in the game for years, but he's calmed down a lot. Still, when made an offer, he gladly accepted.

Bella wrinkles her nose. "I can't believe this. Who the hell are you?"

"You know who I am. I...I actually never lied. I just left things out."

"Ha!" She gapes at me. "Do you really believe that? Come on. Fine. Lies of omission. Semantics, Edward."

There's nothing for me to say, so I say nothing at all. I'm here to keep her safe, not to get back into her good graces.

Although I'd do anything to.

But she's ruthless, picking at scabs that have yet to heal. "Say something."

I break our gaze and glance up the street, at people coming and going, living lives unknown. "What do you want me to say?"

"I want to know who you are!"

"You're too angry to listen. Not that I blame you."

"Stop...you're doing it again!"

I frown, at loss. "Doing what?"

"Being all calm and condescending! Don't. I don't want any more lying." Her face is red, her chest heaving. She wants to punish me.

"I...Bella, this is why I didn't come before. I knew you'd hate me. And you should. I'd hate me. Sometimes I do hate me. There's nothing I can say that will make you understand. I led a different life. It was all I knew, and even when I knew it was wrong I chose it anyway. And then I met you and realized it wasn't what I wanted at all. I'm sorry for making you think I didn't care. I did care. I still do. You're all I think about."

She covers her face, breathing hard. "I told myself I wouldn't do this."

I give her a minute. A cold wind blows, whipping her hair free from its bun. She wears her hair like this a lot these days, I've noticed.

Eventually she peers up at me. "I miss what we had. But I feel like I miss a dream. Like it wasn't real. And it hurts."

I take her arm and pull her close, bringing her almost against me. She doesn't fight it, and I suspect her feelings are still as storing as mine.

"What do you want me to do?" I whisper into her ear. Her hair tickles my nose.

She squirms, putting a little space between us. Not much, though. "I want all of the truth. And then I want you to leave me alone. You made your decisions before. Now I'm making mine."

"Fine," I lie. I won't leave her alone. I'll watch from a distance if that's what it takes. "Do you want to go somewhere to talk?"

"Okay." She agrees more quickly than I would've thought.

"Where? Can I come up?"

"I don't know if that's a good idea."

"Okay, well, do you want to come over?"

She looks at me like I'm crazy. "Over where?"

"To...to where I live."

"What? You _moved here_?"

"I'm from here, Bella. I haven't lived here in a while, but after things...happened...with you, I came to live with my Uncle Carlisle. He's...not in the business."

She stares at me, disbelieving. "You told me you'd been here a couple times."

"I grew up on Mercer Island."

"I can't believe this." With an incredulous laugh, she pushes away from me. "Were you really home schooled? Did you really live in different places?"

"Yes."

"Did you guys follow us down to Miami?"

"Yes."

"Oh, my God. I can't..."

I scrub my hands over my face. "Do you really want to do this here?"

"You live on Mercer Island?"

"Yeah."

She looks back toward her building, wringing her hands. "I don't know if that's a good idea."

"Then we can go where ever you want."

Pulling her phone from her pocket, she types out a quick message. "All right. Let's go. I have to be somewhere at two, so it can't take long."

I look down at my own phone. It's almost twelve. "Okay."

She eyes my car, a nondescript grey Volvo. "What happened to your other car?"

"It's in storage. My dad has the keys."

"Is this yours?"

"Yes."

"You must be loaded, with all these cars."

"I have money. But I work." For now, at least. The restaurant wasn't thrilled when I took today off, but I'd had a feeling Bella would want to talk after last night.

"Do you...need to get anything before we go?" I ask.

"No."

I open her door, and she slides in, clasping her hands in her lap. Deja vu settles over me, although our circumstances are nothing like they were before. In Miami, I was wooing her. Now, I'm fighting for enough time to tell her the truth of what went down.

We don't speak as we drive though the city. I don't bother with music, either. Instead, I watch the road and I watch Bella, sneaking glances as she stares out the window. We're silent until we cross over on to Mercer Island, when she turns toward me.

"I've never been over here before."

"You grew up in Seattle, though, right?"

"In Bellevue."

"Nice area."

She doesn't say anything, and our conversation peters out as quickly as it began. It's interesting: when we were together before, I had the upper hand arguably. It wasn't that I wanted it, but I needed it in order to stick to the plan Em, my father and I'd devised. Somewhere along the way, Bella started to really mean something to me, and now?

She owns me.

She might not want me, but she owns me.

* * *

"You live here?" She leans forward, staring up at the house.

Carlisle and Esme are out, luckily. I'm not sure what time they'll be back, but I'm hoping it's not for a while.

"For now. I want to get my own place."

For once the sun is shining, despite the cool temperatures. We get out of the car and go inside, where I disarm the alarm. The simple act brings back a memory so clear that I purposely avoid looking at Bella.

"Would you like something to drink?" I ask, leading her through Esme's kitchen.

"I'm okay," Bella says softly, looking around. "This is nice."

"Yeah, it is. My aunt's really into that kind of thing."

"Is she here?"

"Not right now. She and my uncle had to go to a function in Portland. They left last night."

"I have family in Portland."

I pause, chancing a glance. "I know."

Her eyes meet mine. She stares at me for a hard minute. "I'd like a beer."

I run my hands through my hair and backtrack toward the fridge. "Um, no beer. There's wine, though. Moscato? Pinot Grigio..."

"Whatever is fine."

"Okay." I take the unopened bottle of Pinot Grigio, an opener, and two glasses, and then lead her upstairs. If the weather was a little warmer I might opt for the table out on the lawn, but I want Bella to be comfortable for this conversation.

In my room, I crack open the window for fresh air, glad I had the foresight to make my bed. Having Bella here, in this place where I've fantasized and remembered and wanted...it's a little surreal. And overwhelming.

I open the bottle and pour us each a full glass, knowing I'll need to pace myself; Bella has to be home in just a few hours.

"Thanks." Bella accepts her glass and sips, nodding. "This is good."

"Esme. She loves wine. They have a cellar downstairs."

"Wow." Bella sets the glass down. "They sound loaded."

"Kind of." I shrug. "They've worked hard for what they have, but she comes form money, too."

"Talk to me." Gazing expectantly at me, Bella takes a seat at my desk. "Start from the beginning."

So I do. No more lies, no more bullshit. I tell her about my dad, how he came to me and Em about a year ago with pictures of Tanya and Bella Swan. How he'd been following news of Charlie Swan and his brothers for at least two years, and knew what most people in the crime world knew: that the Swans were dirty. Charlie had started locally, taking bribes to look the other way when deals went down, and had graduated to messing with evidence. He and a couple of other officers skimmed cash that was seized as well as drugs, growing fat off the riches of fallen criminals. Meanwhile, in Portland, Riley was engaging in shakedowns and illegal protection of his own.

I wasn't sure what Marcus Swan had been doing specifically, but I knew that a _huge_ shipment of cocaine was coming into Miami around the same time as his daughter's wedding. Along with a select few in various arms of service, including the Coast Guard, Charlie and Riley were involved in insuring its safe arrival into the US.

In the end, the same asshole that hired the Swans also hired my father to steal back what the cops had been paid.

Bella listens without speaking, her face blank. I don't know how much of this she knows, if anything. Telling her doesn't exactly feel good; I can't tell if she's relieved to know the truth or horrified.

Probably both.

She's quiet for along time, staring out the window. I let her alone, understanding all too well how it feels to realize your father's not who you thought he was.

But then the alarm on my phone goes off. I glance down at it, silencing the sound. "It's time to bring you back."

She shrugs, releasing her bun as she walks to the window. "I don't have anywhere to be."

"You told me around two."

"I lied."

I think maybe she wants to stay, but I don't want to get my hopes up. Linking my hands behind my head, I lie back on my bed, letting myself watch her. It's been a while since I've been able to.

Her long, shiny brown hair. She's had it cut, but it still sweeps the middle of her back.

The way she fits into those jeans, how her hips flare out. Her snug pink sweater. It might be the most colorful thing I've seen her wear since coming back to Seattle.

_This girl. _

I want all of her, the inside parts and the outside. I want her love and loyalty, her trust and confidence. I want her laughter and her tears, her anger and her calm.

I think of how Emmett was when he realized he had Rose, really had her, and I crave that. It just sucks that I crave it with someone I've already ruined it with.

After awhile, Bella turns away from the window and refills her glass. She drinks half of it in one gulp before setting it down, tears filling her eyes.

"I don't know what I'm doing," she says.

"I don't, either," I admit. "Know what I'm doing, I mean."

"I tried to hate you." She looks at me, eyes wet. "I wish I did. I should. I should hate you."

I nod slowly, listening.

"Why, Edward? You knew it was wrong. Why couldn't you have just let me alone? Why did you have to target me?"

"You were just a name at first," I whisper. "And then you were just a face. And then you were...you...and I tried to get out of it and I couldn't. I didn't. And I'll always regret that. But I don't regret meeting you. Because..."

"Because what?" She comes closer, standing beside the bed as she gazes down at me.

"I don't think..."

"Because what?"

"Because I fell in love with you."

"Fuck you," she whispers, the tears finally falling. "How can you even say that?"

"Because it's true." I reach up, taking her hand, and she lets me, easing down so she's sitting beside me. "You're all I think about. As bad as I let you down? I have to live with the knowledge that I fucked up that royally, that I deceived the _only_ girl I have _ever _felt this way about. I'm telling you because I left my family after I left you. I left the only thing I'd ever known because I couldn't bear to do that to another person, and I couldn't bear to be with someone else if I couldn't be with you."

She stares down at our clasped hands.

"And you don't have to forgive me, Bella. I don't expect you to. But I'll do anything for you."

She looks at me for a long time. Outside, it starts to rain yet again, making the room feel even colder. "I don't know if I can forgive you."

And then she scoots closer, leans down, and presses her mouth to mine.

* * *

**I'm Not Over - Carolina Liar (bella)**

**Noticed - MuteMath (edward)**

**no, things are not dandy and fantastic with a kiss. they're probably even messier. but, you know.**

**thanks for reading. love!**

**and Happy Memorial Day Weekend for my North American readers. I appreciate the sacrifice of those who have served, many times with their lives.**

**xoxo**


	16. Chapter 16

_**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**_

* * *

Sometimes I feel like I am losing myself.

I try so hard to retain the person I thought I was, the girl I was before going to that damn wedding last summer, but it's slipping away like water through my fingers.

I listen to the tale Edward tells, getting lost in his details. It's weird seeing things I thought I knew in a different light, as if by knowing what was really going on all this time the picture is finally clear. I see Edward's involvement in my life differently, but I also see Daddy for who he is. He's my father, always. And I adore him, always. But he's also someone else. And I don't know how to reconcile the two.

So for now I just listen, take it all in. I'm going to have to tell Tanya, obviously, but I'm glad I'm finding all of this out alone. I need time to deal with it on my own terms without being influenced by outside emotions. She's going to be a mess when I tell her. It doesn't matter that she's suspected forever; knowing for sure will hurt her, just as it hurts me.

But then there's Edward.

He's been dwelling in my mind and heart for so long that being with him for real and in the flesh feels normal. Like it was always going to come to this, because it makes sense. I've had imaginary confrontations and conversations many, many times, and now he's right beside me, holding my hand. I know that staying away from him is in my best interest, but I also know that I don't want to. Whether it's because he's the only one who knows everything or because my love for him is true and pure despite this shit storm, I crave his closeness. Badly.

And yet despite all of that, when I kiss him, it isn't premeditated.

I might be a lovesick idiot at times, and I might reminisce and wax poetic about sultry summer nights and best kisses, but I'm angry at him. I mean, I'm mad as hell. He hurt me, and looking at him now...I want to slap him as much as I want to hold him. But then he stops speaking and all I see is that face, and all I can think about, all I feel, is love. I want his mouth, his hands. I want our first time again.

I want him despite.

So I kiss him.

My heartbeat calms, my breathing slows. The knot that's been dwelling in my chest dissolves. Instead of the raw nerves he incited within me when we first met, there's only relief. Like he's the hit the junkie in me has needed.

I breathe him in, letting the memories wash over me. They're vivid, and I begin to retreat, but Edward's hands move to my hair, his fingers sliding through it as he kisses me back. At first, it's gentle, just a warm pressing of lips, but then he deepens it, parting his lips.

He slides his tongue into my mouth, holding me tightly, his arms now wrapped around my waist. I respond in kind, settling into the kiss, hesitantly touching my tongue to his.

His arms tighten around me, bringing me closer, and now...now my heart's beating faster. The way he smells, the way he looks – I remember this. And I want it.

I back off some, pulling away. His eyes open slowly. He looks so serious.

"I think maybe...you should bring me home," I say, sitting up.

Nodding, he lets go of me. I stand up, putting some distance between us, trying to catch my breath. The room, which felt cozy before, now feels small and close. I need air.

In the car, we don't say much. I think we said the things we needed to say before. Well, Edward did. I'm not ready to talk yet. There are way too many conflicting feelings bouncing around inside of me right now, and while I can admit to myself that the love is real – on my side – I can't trust him. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

* * *

"Did he kiss you goodbye?" Alice asks, chewing slowly. She offers me another fry and I take it, shaking my head. Unlike Lauren and me, our schedules don't compliment each other at all. Finding time to chill with Alice is tricky, which is why it takes five days – and a powwow at Dub Street Burgers – to tell her about my talk with Edward.

"No. He didn't try, and I wouldn't have let him anyway. I probably shouldn't have kissed him the first time."

"Why did you?"

"I don't know, Al. Because I wanted to, I guess. I've been thinking about it since I left Miami."

She raises her eyebrows at my flippant response. "Does he know that?"

"That I've been thinking about kissing him?" I wrinkle my nose. "Girl, I don't know! He's impossible to read."

"Doesn't sound like it," she says, smirking. "He did tell you he loved you."

"Yeah." I scoff, shaking my head. "Nice timing on that. I mean...I wish he hadn't."

"Maybe he just wants to be completely honest with you now," she says. "Even if it puts him at a disadvantage."

"Why are you and Lo always on Edward's side?" I ask, genuinely baffled. "He set me up. He lied. He and his brother robbed my Dad. That's not exactly a good foundation for a relationship."

"Well no shit." Alice finishes her soda, shoving it aside. "You have every reason to hate his guts, and you two will probably never have a relationship. But I know you. You wanted him then, and you want him now. And I know how picky you are, so the fact you gave him a chance in the first place says something..."

"Yeah. That I got duped."

She rolls her eyes and barrels on ahead. "Feelings like the ones you had don't disappear that easily, and he's back in your life now. You _do _still have those feelings. You told me." She looks down, fiddling with her ring. "I barely know him, other than what you told me. Part of me would love to kick his ass. But then, he didn't have to come back this time around... at all. The fact that he did, after screwing up that epically, says a lot to me."

"These are pretty extraordinary circumstances, though. He sought me out because he's worried I might be in trouble, not because he's trying to make up."

"True, but also not true. The way he looked at the club? Pa-thetic. That's a lost puppy if I ever saw one. I think he has it just as bad as you do. He feels like shit, and rightfully so."

"I know he regrets what happened. I know he's sorry. I just don't know if that's enough."

"Enough to forgive him and move on, or enough to forgive him and actually be with him?"

"Both." I pause, reconsidering. "I can probably forgive him eventually. But I don't know if I can be with someone like that."

"I feel you. But if that's the case, then cut him loose. I mean for real. Don't let him think he has a chance...that's not fair to him or you. Not that he deserves "fair", but...you know."

"Alice, I haven't said anything to him that suggests he might have a chance."

"Um, you kissed him. And your face is an open book. It's pretty obvious you're into him."

Yeah, she's got me there. My impulse kiss was probably a bad idea, but I couldn't fight it at the time. I could sit here and dissect it all day, but really, I just wanted to be close to him. To feel, to remember. And not just with anyone: with him. It's just going to take me a long time to get past what happened, and at the end of the day, the past pain still feels fresh. I've never felt this confused and conflicted in my life.

"I'm on your side, by the way," Alice says, standing. She wipes her hands with a napkin before sliding out of our booth. "I just don't want you to make a decision you'll regret later."

"A little late for that."

The afternoon sun is weak, but it's better than earlier, when the sky was heavy and grey. I breathe deeply, liking how the crisp autumn air smells faintly of burning leaves.

"Do you really regret what happened between you and Edward?" she asks after a long silence.

"No. I just regret how it ended."

"Yeah, well," she says with a sigh, "I don't think it has ended." She pulls me to a stop, jerking her chin toward the street.

Up ahead, parked at the curb, is Edward.

Alice kisses me and goes the opposite way, leaving me alone.

"What's up?"

Edward shrugs, hands deep the pockets of his black jacket. "Wanted to see if you needed a ride."

"You know I drive," I say, shifting. Lovely as the day is, it's freezing out.

"Yeah, but not today."

I'm not surprised he was watching me catch a ride in with Lauren this morning, but I am a little peeved. "I wish you'd stop following me."

"You won't answer your phone," he says.

"Would it make a difference? Would you still follow me?"

"Are you creeped out?" He stands straighter, those incredible eyes boring into mine. My chest squeezes, and I just barely resist the urge to rub it.

Suddenly, all I want is to be home.

"No."

"So can I drive you home? That is where you're going, right?"

Shoulders slumped, I give in to both Edward and my tiredness. "Fine."

A minute later we're flying down the street as Edward weaves expertly in and out of traffic. It's different than Miami: he grew up around here and the familiarity with which he navigates is apparent. He doesn't try to talk to me. Instead, soft classical music fills the space between us.

For a moment, everything is good.

And then a song comes on that somewhere, deep in the recesses of my brain, I recognize. I know nothing about classical, but this I know. Frowning, I search mentally, knowing that if I don't figure it out it's going to drive me nuts.

"Is this..." I pause, licking my bottom lip. "Clair de Lune? Debussy?"

Edward blinks. "Yes. You know it?"

"My mother loved this. She played it on the piano..."

"Really?" Edward grins, nodding. "My mom taught me to play this, too."

"Oh. Wow." It's an odd thing to have in common with him. Uncanny, almost. Shaking my head, I glance back out the window, finding it hard to look at him. I feel too much. "I don't know if I actually remember her playing. I mean, I think I do. She loved it, even though she couldn't play anything else other than Chopsticks and Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star."

Edward chuckles quietly. I glance at him, feeling my stomach flip. He's handsome when he broods, but when he smiles this way?

My heart.

"My father has videos of her," I whisper, still watching him. "Goofing off on the piano."

He glances at me, allowing our eyes to meet for a second.

"Do you play?" he asks eventually.

"No."

Minutes later we're outside of Poplar Hall. I fidget with the strap on my bag.

"Look, I probably won't be around during Thanksgiving. Tanya and I are spending the holiday with Daddy, so..."

"That's not for another couple of days," he says, staring straight ahead. His fingers drum the steering wheel, anxious.

"I just don't want –"

"Just let me do this, Bella. Until the trial is over. Let me watch out for you."

"The trial could take eternity."

"I've got time."

Frustrated, I get out of the car, pushing down every physical urge I have to be near him. It's hard to resist someone when they want you as badly as you want them. Hard to dismiss their peace offering, their love, their protection. But I do.

"Thanks for the ride," I say, closing the door. And then I slip inside before either one of us says another word.

* * *

I don't see Edward again, but I know he's around.

It makes me feel safe, though I'd never tell anyone else that.

By the time I go home for Thanksgiving break, I've filled Tanya in on everything – even though I try to censor certain things. I feel like she needs to know about the potential for danger, and just how deeply Daddy has fallen down the rabbit hole, but I'm not too keen on telling her what Edward did. My sister's not stupid, though. She cuts right through the bullshit, wanting to know the exact details of how Edward found us...me, and what his role in my life is.

"What is it _exactly_, Baby Bell?" she asks, deceptively calm as we prepare pumpkin and pecan pies. "What'd that little fucker _do_?"

I take a small shot of Daddy's tequila, knowing he won't miss it. The holidays being an exception, he's not much of a drinker. "He robbed Daddy."

"You're shitting me."

"No. And he used me to do it."

Generally, Daddy takes care of the turkey while we do sides and dessert, so other than popping the turkey into the oven earlier, he's been absent from the kitchen. Good thing, too, because just as I'd predicted, Tanya won't let this go and I'm terrified she'll blurt something our in her rage. We hash it out for a long time, volleying back and forth in a flurry of harsh whispers. By the time the pies are done we're half drunk and arguing. And Tanya hardly seems concerned that there might be unsavory characters waiting for their chance to intimidate us. Or worse. All she can say, over and over, is, "I cannot _believe_ I pushed you on that guy."

"I didn't do anything I didn't want to do, Tan."

"Whatever. I should've seen that whole smooth, pretty boy act for what it was. I just never thought it would be so _criminal_! Damn." She grimaces. "You know, I thought Tyler was the bad one when we first met them. Goes to show you can never tell. Con artist indeed."

As seems to be my norm lately, I find myself caught between opposite feelings. On one hand, Tan's protectiveness is comforting, but on the other...I'm oddly defensive over Edward. I'm about to ask about Tyler's upcoming visit, mainly to redirect her attention, when Daddy walks into the kitchen with or guests. Jake and Leah Black, whose families are back on the East Coast, have joined us tonight. This isn't the first time we've invited friends over for the holidays, and despite that this is our first time meeting the Blacks, the atmosphere is warm. Leah's especially easy to get along with, and I take to her immediately.

I'm not so sure about Jake, though. He's one of the newer guys on the squad, and it's obvious he looks up to Daddy, although considering the latest allegations I'm not sure why. By the expression on my father's face, he really likes Jake, too. They talk work and sports, popping in to grab beer every now and then. But it's the way he looks at me, his glances lingering just a little too long, that catches me off guard. He's incredibly built and good looking, so yeah, I notice him, too. But not the way he does me.

It happens several times, and by the time we're eating dinner I'm counting down the seconds until they leave. It's nothing overt, but it's there – especially in the way he smiles at me. He's affectionate with Leah, though, too. I don't know what to make of him.

Thankfully, Daddy's oblivious. He's been distracted a lot lately, and I know it's because of the ongoing investigation. Many recent nights have found him either working late or holed up in his home office, talking on the phone into the early hours. I'm reminded of Miami, of Uncle Marcus and Uncle Riley.

Eventually Leah starts yawning, apologizing as she does. "I am so sorry!" she laughs, covering her mouth. "Work's been crazy lately...I'm tired all the time."

"Plus you're a lightweight," Jake teases, nodding toward her empty wine glass. "Time to get you home."

Smiling politely, I disappear into the kitchen. We have a ton of leftovers, and I want to send Jake and Leah home with some. In the other room, I hear Daddy laughing, and I realize that tonight is the most relaxed I've seen him in awhile. I'm sliding a couple of containers into a bag when there's a soft knock.

"Bella?"

Schooling my face into a neutral mask, I turn to see Jake leaning in the doorway. "Almost done here."

He waves his hand. "Thanks. Hey, listen...I just wanted to let you know that I'll be around. In case there are any...issues. With your dad."

I'm not sure if he's being creepy or not. I don't think he is, but his implication is still unsettling. I hate thinking about my father being investigated, especially since I know he's guilty. It's just a matter of time before the authorities can prove what we already know, and then what? He does time? Where does that leave Tan and I? Our schooling is paid for – that's not a problem. But what about the mortgage? What about our family?

Jake clears his throat, no doubt seeing my dismay. "Anyway, this is me." He puts a business card down on the counter. "If you or Tanya need _anything_, just call. Okay?"

He seems pretty straight forward for the time being, so I shrug and nod. Maybe he wasn't checking me out earlier; maybe he was just trying to get a read on me. Who knows? I haven't always been the best judge of character, God knows. We walk back into the foyer, where we join the others to say our goodbyes.

Leah grins, accepting the food. "Thank you, so much. We had such a nice time."

"No problem. I'm glad you guys could join us," Daddy says. Tanya and I echo the sentiment, and the Blacks leave, heading out into the blustery night.

I glance at the street, wondering if Edward is around, or if he heeded my advice and is spending the evening with his family.

I really, really hope it's the latter.

* * *

The following Monday I get a phone call while I'm getting ready for my first class. I'm already running late, and I can't find my keys, so the distraction is an unwelcome one. Cursing lightly, I answer without looking.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Bell. It's me."

Spying my keys, I launch across my bed to retrieve them. "Hey Tanya. What's up?"

She sighs heavily, the sound distorted across the line. "It's Daddy. Looks like they have enough evidence to proceed with a trial."

Time stops. Exhaling, I sit down on my bed. We've known this was a possibility, but to have it come to fruition is more than I can comprehend. "Shit. What're we going to do?"

"You home?"

"Yeah, but I'm headed out. I'm late for class as it is."

"Meet me downstairs in five. I'm on my way." She hangs up, rather dramatically, before I can respond. Heart pounding, I wrap a scarf loosely around my neck and slip into my coat. I grab my bag, lock up, and head downstairs.

For once, Edward's not waiting across the street. In fact I haven't seen him in a few days, not since before Thanksgiving. I suspect he's been keeping his lurking more subtle. If what he told me is true, though, my life is about to get complicated in a way I'd never imagined.

Tanya pulls up seconds later. "Come on," she calls, motioning for me to get in. "We have to go to the house."

"Why?"

"Daddy asked me to grab a couple of things...make sure they're not there when the house gets searched."

"You've got to be kidding me!" I cry, horrified. "What?"

"Nothing illegal," she huffs. "Just like, Mom's old stuff. Sentimental value. He's worried they'll ransack it."

"The cops?" I frown. "It would really go down like that?"

"Well, no. I don't think so." She adjusts the heater, turning it away. "But...remember what your little boy-toy said?"

My stomach clenches painfully. "Yes."

"About other, less law abiding people? Yeah. Now that Daddy's all tied up at work, there's a chance we might have a few visitors. So the best thing would be to remove anything that doesn't mean something to us."

I think about the jewelry and art Daddy's gifted me over the years, about the family heirlooms that have been in our family for generations. We've never been wealthy, per se, but we've always been very comfortable.

"The safe in his room...we don't know the combination," I say.

"No...there's nothing we can do about that. But I wouldn't be surprised if he's already started putting things into a safety deposit box, you know? I swear, he's shady. So shady, Bell."

Thinking about Daddy that way makes me sick to my stomach. We don't talk the rest of the way, choosing instead to blast music. The ride is quick: traffic is smooth, and Tanya's got a hot foot.

We pull up, parking in the driveway we once played in as little kids. I remember hopscotch, chalk graffiti and, when we got a little older, stargazing at night. Knowing we may lose this house, as well as our father's freedom, puts a lump in my throat.

In my old room, I go over my belongings. There's still plenty of stuff here that didn't make the cut when I moved into my dorm; looks like I'll be taking it now. I sweep the jewelry into an old tote bag, along with a couple of other random items. Then I go through the house with Tanya, grabbing anything we're afraid to lose. Even dumb stuff, like Daddy's fancy fishing poles and this old vase my mother apparently loved.

We load everything into the car and lock up again, barely speaking.

But then a black SUV pulls up, and from it steps Jacob Black. Freezing, I watch as he approaches, a smirk playing at his mouth.

"Everything okay, ladies?"

I glance at Tanya, who just gapes back at me. If she's speechless, this must be bad.

Well, shit.

* * *

Edward scowls, flicking his cigarette.

He was here when I got back, waiting for me. I'd called him after leaving the house, still shaken up by Jacob Black's sudden appearance, and how creepy and weird he'd acted – smug, domineering, and nothing like submissive little suck-up that had joined us for Thanksgiving.

Saying he was stopping by to "check on things for Charlie", he'd all but forced Tan and I back into the house, where we waited while he went upstairs. I didn't know what he was looking for or if Daddy knew he was there – I'd doubted it – but it had all felt very wrong. Obviously.

Thing is, when a large man with a standard issue handgun insists on taking a look around, it's a little hard to say no.

"I'll be around," he'd said afterwards, getting into his car and leaving. "Don't do anything silly."

No reassurances about Daddy, no offers to help out. Just a hard look and a cryptic goodbye.

One look at Tanya's white face and I'd been on the phone to Edward, his earlier warnings all too clear and real now. Paranoid, he was not.

So here we are.

He's been smoking more. At first I didn't know it was even a habit of his; he never did it down in Florida. Now I realize that's it's just one of many things about him I didn't know. I watch him exhale with the practiced ease of someone who's been doing it for awhile.

"Hey," I say, yanking on that newsboy cap.

I love it –love him in it – and it made my heart skip a beat earlier when he showed up in it, but I won't tell him that.

"What?"

"What do you mean, what? Why're you so mad?"

"Because I should've fucking been there, Bella."

"You're always there, _Edward_," I say, exasperated. "Just...today was crazy. Tanya called and we went. We don't even know –"

"You said he was looking at you the other night?" he interrupts. "At dinner?""

"Yeah."

He shakes his head, flicking the butt of his cigarette away.

"You shouldn't do that," I say, watching it roll toward a gutter.

"What, litter?"

"Smoke."

He scrubs his hands over his face. "Look. You should've told me you were going back to the house. With Charlie being held at the station, it's pretty obvious the vultures are about to descend. This, _this_ is what I was talking about. You should've called..."

"I did call," I say, trying not to get upset again.

"I mean the second he got there. You should've texted. Something." He reaches forward and pulls me close, ignoring the distance we sometimes try to keep between us. Well, maybe that was before the kiss.

"Hey," he says, softer now. "You okay?"

Nodding, I push him gently away. "I've missed two classes."

Scoffing, he averts his eyes to the window behind us. We're right outside the lobby of my building, where I asked him to meet me. "That's hardly a concern at this point."

"It's a concern to me," I say. I don't think he understands just how important normalcy is to me, and I tell him as much.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly, reprimanded. "Do you want to go, then? To the rest of your classes?"

"I only have one more. And it's at six."

"I can take you."

"Edward, please. I'll be fine. I called to keep you updated, and to let you know that..." I close my eyes against the frisson of fear that shovers up my spine. "That you were right. And that we should look into Jacob Black. See who he really is."

"Done deal. I've already given Emmett his name."

"Okay. Well, I'm gonna go. Don't wait around for me, okay? I'll be fine. I'm sure Jacob has plenty to do besides bother me."

"Maybe, but I doubt he's the only one."

I'd figured as much, but hearing Edward say it doesn't make me feel any better. Grimacing, I shove my hands into my coat pockets. "Have you guys learned anything else, then?"

"A little."

He's keeping his information close, and for now, I let him. I haven't exactly been open and trusting with him, either. All we are is awkward, moving forward in fits and stops.

"I don't know what to do," I admit.

He's quiet, frowning at the ground. A group of girls passes, talking loudly, and for a moment I imagine that I'm them, living the sort of carefree existence I'd always imagined for myself when college started. Edward's quiet too, seemingly as lost in thought as me.

I give his sleeve a brief tug. "What're you thinking?"

"Maybe you should...I don't know. Stay with me awhile."

"What? I don't think that's a good idea."

"Until we know who and what we're dealing with."

And this is where I take a couple of steps back. This infuriating, inner push and pull keeps me so doubleminded, so unstable in all my ways. I don't know whether I'm coming or going, constantly at war with myself. The one I love is the one I fear, and the one I trust with my life is the one I could never trust with my heart. It's making me crazy, and I can feel myself wearing down.

I'm so tired.

"Talk to you later," I say, and I leave him standing there. He doesn't try to stop me, and I think maybe he's as tired as me.

I spend most of the day holed up in my room, trying to focus on school work and reading. Tanya doesn't call, and I don't bug her. She needs time to process all of this just as much as I do.

When I do emerge, it's around five fifteen so that I can get coffee and a snack before class. I drive, scanning the streets all, wondering where Edward is now. My own personal watchdog.

Yeah...he's so much more, but I do my best not to think about that.

I slog through class, trying and failing to concentrate. Lo texts as I leave, saying she's meeting up with friends at this lounge downtown, and do I want to go? It's cold out, but getting lost in my head would feel good right now, so I go. I send Edward a message letting him know. He can't say I'm not playing it safe, and I know it's the smart thing to do anyway.

It's a crowded venue, packed with every type, but I find Lo easily. I know several of the people she's hanging with, so it's not completely awkward, and we settle into conversation fairly easily. It's all good until this guy I don't know well, Seth, slides into the seat beside me. He keeps it casual, but his direct gaze and flirty smile contradict the polite getting-to-know-you words coming out of his mouth. It's obvious he's interested, and I'm just...not. Why does being _single_ automatically seem to equate to _looking_? Or even _available_?

And how long will it be before I can look at another guy without comparing him to Edward? How long before I want to?

Seth sits back and slides his arm over the back of my chair, prompting me to sit forward a little. Feeling crowded, I consider creating space by going to the restroom or getting a bottle of water. Lauren and I make eye contact across our table. She cringes a little, reading my irritation.

A familiar face emerges from the sea of people: pretty green eyes from beneath a cap pulled low.

I stand up before he can say anything, going right to him. "Hey."

He stares down at me, eyes flashing to the group behind for just a second before refocusing on my face. He doesn't say a word, and he doesn't have to. I think about the tables being turned, about finding him somewhere cozy with a girl, and my stomach turns. It tells me all I need to know.

There is nothing logical about what I'm about to do. It's unwise, and impetuous, and not unlike thrusting my hands into a beautiful fire that's already burned me once.

Grabbing my bag, I lean down to kiss Lo, who waves half heartedly at Edward, watching the two of us with amusement and suspicion.

We leave, and he holds my hand.

* * *

_***BTSK - Ms Mr (Secondhand Rapture)**_

_**thank you for reading. if you have a moment, please do share your thoughts. i like that, and i'm grateful for those of you who do. thank you and much love.**_

_**xo**_


	17. Chapter 17

___**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**_

* * *

**EPOV**

* * *

One of the things about my old life was the rush. Every job was a challenge, a problem ripe to be solved and conquered, and when I'd completed what I'd set out to accomplish, it was like getting high.

And then there was the camaraderie I felt with my father and Emmett, the love. The warmth of belonging to something bigger than myself. It didn't matter – then – that what we were doing was wrong; it was what we knew, and it was ours.

But all of that pales in comparison to the feeling of Bella Swan's hand in mine.

Because it's not just her hand: it's her trust. I look down at her as we cut through the crowd. Her face is turned down, but she looks like she might be smiling a little. Maybe. And then her fingers tighten, gripping me, and I know she is.

Every sad moment I've had, every guilt ridden thought and anxious emotion, dissipates in the wake of this. I know things are far from perfect, but if I died right now? I'd be happy.

Whole.

I understand, with abrupt clarity, my brother and Rose. Life is no bowl of cherries for them, either, but having each other makes the tough times bearable. I get it.

I get it.

We emerge into the night, welcomed by crisp air that turns our breath to smoke.

"Where are we going?" Bella asks, giving me another squeeze. I don't know if she even realizes she's doing it. I squeeze back, and she half-smiles, her eyes caught up in mine.

"Home, I guess."

"My home? Because, I drove..."

"No, I know," I say, but really, I'd forgotten. Seeing her try to distance herself from some asshole looking to score had provided me with the blessing of stark single-mindedness: nothing existed outside of getting Bella away. Because while that kid may not have been a threat to her safety, he was a threat to me.

And I'm not at the point where I can just sit back and let that go down. Not yet, not now. Not when she still looks at me the way she's doing right now, eyes wet with want. She's something bright, even in the dark.

"I'll follow you home," I say. "Make sure you get in okay."

I drive her to her car, and then I follow her to her dorm, where I idle on the curb, watching her. Always watching. She stands hesitantly on the sidewalk before coming to me, and I roll down the window, preparing my heart for her goodbye.

"Come up for a second?" she asks, voice small.

I gaze up at her, giving her a minute, but she doesn't take it back. Turning the car off, I grab my phone and get out. "What's up? You okay?"

She nods, shrugging. "Yeah. Come on."

We walk inside, past the desk I left the money at. In the grand scheme of things, that day wasn't so long ago, but it feels like it's been a lifetime. Things are different now than they were then, amazingly even more complicated. Every time I learn something new about Charlie or his case it's like this rabbit hole is endless, and we're falling deeper in by the day.

I've been honest with Bella about things, but I've used discretion, too. There's a lot of scary shit going on, and I don't want her to be paralyzed by fear. God knows I'm scared enough for the both of us.

I watch Bella as she leads me through hallways and doors, the way her hair swings and her hips sway. She glances back just once when we reach a door, smiling a bit. "This is it."

Nodding, I wait for her to let me in. She flicks on a light when we hit her bedroom, making me blink in the sudden brightness.

It's small, but tidy – and hard to tell it belongs to two different people. The styles, the stuff, seem seamless.

"You stay with the blonde?"

"Lauren," she says, nodding.

"She a good friend?"

"The best. I've known her since way back. Her and Alice."

"Alice the little one?"

Bella smiles, her features softening. I wish I could kiss her.

"Yeah, though I think she'd prefer 'petite'," she says.

"I got a friend..." Pausing, I think about the best way to word my request.

"You have a friend..." she prompts, sitting on the edge of her bed.

"Jasper. He works with me. At the restaurant. He –"

"What is it with you and restaurants?"

"I don't know," I say, caught off guard by the randomness of her question. I forget sometimes that she knows me primarily as someone else. "I'm good at it, I guess."

"Hm."

The silence between us is kind of awkward, and screw that. So I continue, "Jasper was there the night you saw me. At the club. Anyway, he likes your friend. Alice."

"Jasper likes Alice?"

"Yeah."

Bella smirks, nodding slowly. "Lots of boys like Alice."

"I doubt Jasper cares about that," I reply with a smirk of my own, thinking of the incessant flirting this kid engages in. He's not exactly lonely.

"Well...I'll let her know," she says, watching me closely.

I nod. We're quiet again. I wonder what we're doing, not that I don't cherish every second spent. Tiredness creeps in, and I sit beside her, easing back until I'm against her pillows.

"So what's up? You nervous? I can stay if you want," I say, yawning.

"No, I...no." She looks at her lap. "I just didn't want to say good night."

I don't know what to say to that. Actually, I do, but I can't. I can't say anything because she has the upper hand, and if I'm ever going to have a chance with her, she's going to have to come to me. I can't risk scaring her off. It's bad enough I have to 'stalk' her, decent intentions be damned.

"Why are you so quiet?" she asks, like she's programmed to see right through my reticence. "You were never like this before..."

"What do you want me to say?"

"I don't _want you _to say anything."

I consider myself well versed in the art of communication, but apparently I have a lot to learn when it comes to the verbal dynamics of actual relationships. Instead of responding, I wait for Bella to explain...which she does, after a couple of weighted minutes.

"We used to have so much to talk about and now everything's different. You can't be that marvelous of an actor, Edward. Was it _all_ lies? Even the little things?"

She's trying to provoke me. Because...we do talk, about a lot of things. But she wants to talk about certain things, and it's as hard for her to articulate as it is for me.

We've been through this a couple of times already, and it's frustrating to hear her bring it up again. Still, I guess that's what happens when there's any dishonesty at all. My integrity is so compromised that it's a miracle she's even speaking to me. But then I remember Alice that night at the club, telling me that Bella can't get over me. Just like I can't get over her. I stare up at her now, willing her to just...get it. "I've already told you it wasn't all lies. You were with _me_. It was just under shitty circumstances. Every time I kissed you...that was real. Everything I said – when it came to how I felt and what I wished we could have – was real."

Her face darkens. She gets up, wandering to her window. It's warm inside, and cold outside, so condensation has formed on the glass. She reaches up, drawing designs with her finger.

"When we were together, you had me," I say.

"Do I still?"

"You know you do."

"Is it wrong that I want what we had, even if it was make-believe?"

"It wasn't make-believe." Part of me is sick of trying to convince her. Most of me is just sick there's reason to.

She pauses in her window doodling. "I want..."

I wait, listening, watching. I could watch her forever.

"I'm tired of chasing you," she admits.

"What?" Unless I'm mistaken, I'm the one doing the chasing these days. She's been avoiding me, and rightfully so, ever since we left Miami. And shit, she made me chase her down there, too, even if it was all a game back then.

"You said you loved me."

"Yeah."

"But sometimes this feels more like obligation. Like you're still trying to repay a debt." Her shoulders curve inward, and she rests her forehead on the glass.

"I feel a lot of things," I say slowly. "And I'll probably always be trying to repay this debt."

"You can stop. I don't want you to."

"Well, what _do_ you want me to do?"

She's silent, back to tracing her fingertips through the frost.

"I'll be whatever you need me to be right now, Bella. But I don't even know if you hate my guts or..." I shake my head, my lack of eloquence making me feel like an idiot.

"I don't hate you," she says softly.

Again, I stay quiet. I've told her I love her. I'm not sure what else there is to say.

"You know, most guys are pretty obvious when they want something, but you hold your emotions close."

"I'm not most guys."

"Every guys says that."

"Yeah, well."

"_Yeah, well_ I think you're full of shit. And scared of me."

"You're right. I am scared of you."

She turns, wiping her hands on her jeans. "Why?"

"Because I've never felt this way about anybody."

Watching me with those big, dark eyes, she slips out of her jacket and the sweater she's got on underneath, leaving on just a t-shirt and jeans. She loosens her ponytail, letting her hair fall down around her shoulders, and I swear my fingers ache to touch it. To touch her. Everywhere.

"You could crush me," I say.

Scoffing, she eases back on to the bed.

"What?"

"I think _you think_ you love me. I think..."

I'm close now, inches away from her and her ridiculous rambling. We look at each other, and I don't care what she thinks she knows about me because she doesn't know shit. So instead of trying to explain it, _again,_ I grab her face and kiss her.

She doesn't move, but her mouth opens, receiving me. Instead of holding back, the way I've been doing since the night I kissed her on the beach, I let loose and let her have it, pushing her on to her back. She thinks I don't care, that I'm more concerned with protecting her and righting past wrongs, and while those things matter to me, they're peripheral. At the base of it all is my love for her, and the love I think she has for me. It makes me crazy. I don't know if I'm losing myself in her, or if I'm finally finding myself.

Bella's breathing turns heavy, and she reaches up, soothing fingertips through my hair. I kiss her harder, filling her mouth with my tongue, swallowing her little moans and gasps as I push my hips against hers. She pulls back, panting, and I follow her, my lips back on hers before she can say another word.

"Edward," she whispers anyway, her lips moving against mine.

Sliding my hand up under her shirt, I touch her warm, soft skin, feeling her shudder beneath me. I remember her legs wrapped around me as I rocked into her that summer night, listening to her pain turn to pleasure. I want to do it again, lose myself in her, even if just for a night.

She manages to squirm put from under me, putting her hands on my cheeks, my mouth.

"Why did you bring me here?" I ask.

"For this," she whispers.

"You can have it wherever you want."

"Don't lie to me anymore," she pleads, holding my face. "Don't hurt me."

"I won't."

"Tell me the truth. Always. It's the only way."

"I will." Lacing my fingers back through hers, I press her into the mattress and kiss her again. I'm hard and she knows; she pushes up against every chance she gets. Her hands disappear beneath my shirt and now she's touching my stomach, her fingers tickling over my skin.

Groaning, I slide down, letting her hand fall away. I kiss her neck, sucking and nipping at her skin, remembering the way she smells and loving it.

The lock clicks open loudly. I move to Bella's side, unsure of what she's going to say, but she comes with me, resting her head on my chest.

The blonde...Lauren...comes cautiously in, looking only slightly surprised to see me in Bella's bed.

"Hey."

"Hey," Bella echoes.

"Hi." I give a small wave, and then figuring this might be my cue to leave, disentangle myself to get up. "I'm heading out. You gonna be okay?"

She nods, sitting up. Her cheeks are flushed and her hair falls in messy tangles, and she's all I want. I want inside her, and over. I want her tonight, and tomorrow, and over...and over. Grateful for the dim lighting in the girls' dorm, I stand up. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye, now," Lauren says, just a little snidely.

She's protective of her girl, and I get that, so I let her alone. "Bye. Sleep tight. Call me, Bella. I mean it."

Her voice follows me out the door. "I will."

* * *

I listen for a moment, making sure they lock the door. Once things click in to place I'm on the move, yawning as I head downstairs. After being inside Bella's warm room, and specifically, her bed, the night air is a shock. Tightening my jacket, I hurry to the car and jump inside, turning up the heat.

There's not a lot of traffic at this time. I fly over streets and across the bridge, getting home on autopilot. My mind thinks of nothing but Bella: her kisses, her need, her honesty.

I don't know where we'll go after things clear up, if they ever do, but I hope she'll stay with me. Somehow, someway. I hope.

Carlisle and Esme are in bed when I get home. I let myself in silently, setting the alarm and locking up before grabbing a bottle of water. Weary to the bone, I climb the stairs and get ready for bed. Tomorrow is a long day, complete with a shift at work and then meeting Bella afterward.

She's the last thing I think of being drifting off as well as the first one I think of upon waking. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I shoot Emmett a text, asking if he's gotten any feedback yet. He responds promptly, informing me of the email he just sent my way.

I open my laptop and access my Gmail account, not surprised to see not one but several messages from Em. The latest is titled, simply, Jacob.

Turns out our boy was in on a couple of Charlie's jobs. He's also one of the people now keeping his eye on the Swan girls. I wonder if Charlie knows that, if he's figured it out. If I hadn't screwed the guy over so recently I'd go downtown and meet him myself, tell him what was up, but that seems a little brazen. So for now...I just read about Jacob Black. I scour his file, wondering if the wife, Leah Black, has anything to do with it, but she seems clean for now.

Bella says the Blacks are from back east, and according to this file that means New Jersey. Apparently Jacob has been with the force for seven years, so he sounds like he's a little older than what Bella thought. Nice guy. Married, in a position of authority, and a little older – totally appropriate for him to be checking Bella out while at her father's house for dinner.

Asshole.

The rest of the information is vague. While the Blacks have only lived in Seattle a short time, Jacob's been coming out for years to do these jobs. Charlie's gone east, too. They've all gone south. Looks like the main areas of interest are Seattle, Miami, Portland and Newark. The majority of the crimes have been somewhat minor, in that they'll result in jail time but they were no worse than the shit I used to do. The last two, though...those are what will probably land the Swan brothers...and Jacob – if Charlie snitches – real time behind bars. Drug deals. Major. Importing large quantities of cocaine into the country.

"Damn," I mutter, shaking my head.

I mean, I get it. To a degree, I understand the love of money and the rush when you get it. It's tempting, and it can be so easy. Dangerous, but _easy_. This stuff, though, is way over my head. Compared to the Swans, the shit my Dad, Em and I did was small potatoes. Chintzy stuff.

Well, until that last job. I'm starting to wonder if my decision to leave the "family business" was smart for reasons other than Bella. On a hunch, I call Emmett, who I know is probably already at work. He doesn't answer, but I leave him a brief voicemail, asking him to call back.

By the time he does, it's been a couple of hours and I'm the one at work. I slip out back, citing the need for a cigarette break, and take the call.

"Hey."

"Hey; got your message. What's up?" Like always, there's a lot of noise and commotion on his side due to the location and nature of his job. I've been down there to watch him work, and I think it would drive me crazy.

"I need you to be real with me, okay?" I say.

He sighs, loudly. "I don't have time for this, Edward. Say what you gotta say."

"Did Dad quit?"

"What?"

He heard me. The fact he's stalling tells me what I need to know, but I repeat myself anyway. "I said, did Dad quit?"

"What? Conning?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

"Why? Where is he?"

"Last I heard, South America or something. I don't know. He booked it when Rose and I told him we leaving because of the baby."

"But why? He couldn't have done it himself? Or hooked up with someone from back in the day?"

"You know you can't trust anybody," chuckles Emmett. "Look at this Swan guy. Being screwed over by the same shitheads who hired him. Literally. You got the dealers down in Miami who hired us, and you got internal affairs up here. The man's getting it from both sides, and not in a good way."

I'm quiet, thinking about that. It's true: trusting other criminals is risky. But is that really why dad quit the game? I know him. This is in his blood.

"What're you thinking?" Em asks.

"I'm thinking he quit because this last job got a little too deep."

"Well, you'd be right. Look, I gotta go."

"All right. Later."

We hang up, and I set my phone down. This whole time it's been Bella I've been trying to protect. That's still my main objective, but I'd never considered that agreeing to work for the outfit in Miami could result in this clusterfuck. I'm hoping we're in the clear. We did the job, took our cuts, delivered the money and left town.

But just knowing that we were so close to it – makes me nervous. I'll have to be extra vigilant, I guess.

* * *

The next couple days are routine. I work and watch Bella; she goes to classes and stays home, mostly. She doesn't try to keep me away anymore, so I spend time in her dorm with her while she does homework. Every now and then she has a study group or something, and when that happens, I just make sure to stay close by. Just in case.

Meanwhile, Charlie has been put on paid leave. At this point, a trial is pretty inevitable. The only question is when? How quickly will things proceed? How much time does he have? Bella tells me she'll be fine financially, that she and Tanya were the beneficiaries of their mother's life insurance policy. They each have savings accounts that have never been touched in addition to college funds Charlie insisted on maintaining over the years. I suspect he always knew this day would come, and like any good father, prepared for it. What wasn't a good parenting move, though, was choosing to go this route in the first place, knowing that if he got caught he'd be leaving his already motherless children. But who am I to judge? I think about my own father, and the way Emmett and I eagerly followed in his footsteps for so long.

Maybe I understand Charlie Swan better than I'd like to.

Bella's uncle Riley shows up. I remember him from the barbeque, and from some of the information Em's sent me since. He's a tall, intense looking guy, but Bella's pretty endeared. Guess their whole family is pretty close knit. He comes with his wife and they stay at Charlie's, for moral support I guess. Bella suspects, as time goes on and the trial draws near, their house will become inundated with her loud, boisterous family. I can't tell if she wants this to happen or not.

As much of a Daddy's girl as she is, one would think she'd be spending every drop of spare time with him...but she hasn't been. At first I encourage her to just go – Tanya's always there, too, and it's a safe place for them both.

But she won't. She loves her father, but this double life of his ripped the rug from under her feet. She's hurt, deeply.

Tanya's convinced her to come home for dinner tonight, though. She's going, because she misses everyone, but I know she's messed up inside. We don't go too in depth with things, because I tend to allow her to set the pace when it comes to disclosure, but I can tell.

I stand in the doorway of her dorm, watching her talk to Lauren and Alice as she packs a bag. "I never thought I'd be nervous at home," she sighs, throwing clothes into a bag. She'll be coming home to me tonight after dinner. I tell myself – and her – it's because it'll be safer, but I have selfish reasons for convincing her, too.

I want to talk to her until we fall asleep and then wake up beside her. I want her to finally meet my aunt and uncle, and maybe even Em and Rose, who's been bugging me about it for awhile.

"Right?"

I look up, realizing she's talking to me now, her friends looking on expectantly.

"Sorry, what?"

"I said, you'll come get me early if it gets shitty, right?"

"Yeah...but I don't think it will. Just, I don't know. Make the best of it."

Alice nods. She looks even more sad than Bella does. "I know you're pissed at him, but he's your dad. This time with him is precious."

"I know that," Bella says, frowning. "Trust me. I think about it all the time. I just...I feel like I don't even know him."

"You know him," I assure her. "You just don't know this side to him. Don't let it affect your feelings for him. There's nothing you can do about what he did."

She stares at me, zipping her bag. We both know I could be talking about me, too.

Lauren clears her throat. "Charlie's still Charlie, and he loves you, and that's all that matters. If you don't hang out with him while you can, you'll regret it."

Bella nods, picking her bag up. "Yeah. I'll be okay. I just need to start dealing with this." Her voice cracks, and her friends jump up, no doubt to swoop in and comfort her. Unsure of where I stand with them, and sometimes, with her, I reach behind for the door handle.

"I'll be outside, Bella."

"Hold on," she says, voice muffled by Lauren's shirt. They hug and cry and mumble things and then Bella breaks away, coming toward me. I wave a quick goodbye to Lauren and Alice and then we're gone, walking silently down the hall. I know she's stressed over this dinner and spending time with Charlie in the wake of the shitstorm that's gone down, so I let her stew. There's nothing I can say that hasn't been said.

Downstairs, she tightens her scarf and leans in to me as cold air whips through the lobby's open door. It's frigid out; about to be December.

I've known Bella for nearly six months.

"What?" Bella asks. "What're you smiling about?"

She's so close she's almost resting her head on my shoulder. I slide my arm around her, smelling her hair. "We met six months ago."

"That long, huh?"

"In some ways it feels like I've known you longer."

She pauses, then nods. "I know what you mean."

* * *

The text comes around nine thirty.

_Can you come?_

I respond to her immediately, and then grab my keys on the way out the door. Esme, tucked in at the kitchen table, grins at me from behind her laptop. She can't wait to meet Bella, no doubt feeling very smug that she was right about everything.

Smiling back, I roll my eyes and leave. It's quiet and cold, and all I can think about is Bella and blankets and how good it's going to feel to combine the two.

I pull up to the Swan house in record time, knowing, but not caring, that I'm at this girl's beck and call. I text her to let her know I'm outside and she appears promptly, pulling the door closed behind her. It opens again as she slips into my car. My heart lurches as Tanya Swan strides out, her face pulled into an angry mask.

"Just go," mutters Bella, clicking her seatbelt.

But I don't. I roll down the window and wait as Tanya leans down, peering in at me. "You've got a lot of nerve."

I don't respond. Somehow I think her observation is meant to be hypothetical.

"Why are you here?" she asks.

"Tan –"

"Shut up, Baby Bell," she snaps, her blue eyes bright even at night. "Edward. What do you want with my sister? Why can't you just leave well enough alone?"

I hear Bella's sharp intake of breath, and I know she's fighting mad. I've got a brother; I know what it's like to be so mad you're murderous, and I get why Tanya hates me. But I don't want to be in the middle of this, nor do I feel like explaining myself to anyone besides Bella. She grabs my hand, squeezing, giving me support I don't deserve.

"Because I love her. And I'm here for her."

"You don't know what love is," she says, sounding deflated.

"I didn't...but I do now."

"We're leaving now, Tanya. I'll see you later," Bella says loudly. "Come on."

Tanya backs slowly away, looking a little shellshocked. I don't know what she was expecting when she came out to talk to me, but I'm guessing it wasn't that. I roll the window back up and leave, turning the heat a little higher.

"I'm sorry," Bella breathes.

"Don't be. She's right to be freaked out."

She shakes her head, looking out the window. I glance at the reflection of her face, wishing I could read her silences. "How'd it go tonight?"

"Pretty good, actually," she says, a smiling a little. "It was nice to spend time. Felt like always, you know?"

I nod, because I do know. I miss that. I miss my dad, even if he is kind of a dick.

She finds some dreamy song on the radio and we go home.

* * *

Esme's nowhere to be found when we walk in through the kitchen door. I peek surreptitiously around, half expecting her to casually stroll in for a peek, but she never does. I'm assuming she wants to give me privacy, and I appreciate that. After making sure Bella doesn't need anything, I bring her upstairs.

She drops her stuff on the floor and comes to me, resting her forehead on my chest. I bring her into my embrace. We do this a lot lately. Holding, hugging. There's kissing sometimes, but there's a lot of pulling back, too.

Right now she's pulling back so she can look at me. I thumb the delicate shadows beneath her eyes: she's so soft.

"Stop thinking," she says, her fingers wrapping around my wrists.

"I can't."

"I want you to..." She yanks me close, kissing me.

So I kiss her. I unwrap her scarf and drop it to our feet, and then I help her out of her jacket. I slip out of mine while she loosens her bun, grinning when her hair gets caught in the elastic. We take off our shoes and get into bed, where she pulls me on top, wrapping herself around me. It quickly becomes apparent that her jeans need to go, so I back up and peel them off of her, kissing her thighs and her belly button as I do.

She shivers like she's cold...aroused. I kiss her skin, chasing her goosebumps with my tongue. Her fingernails scratch lightly through my hair, and then she tugs, bringing me up to kiss me. I grind and push into the cradle of her hips, reaching down to unbutton my pants. She joins me, sliding her hand down and grasping me so firmly I gasp into her mouth. For a minute she does just that: holds, squeezes, slides her hand up and down while we kiss. We get my pants off, and then I roll on to my back, bringing her with me so that she's on top. She curves over me, silky hair brushing my face while our mouths reconnect. I hold her hips in my hands, working her body over mine, and she meets me move for move.

She's got this little black sweater on, one with buttons. I undo them, kissing her as I go lower, collarbones to cleavage. I open it up, revealing her beautiful body to me, remembering that there was a time when I saw her like this constantly because of the beach. Tugging her bra down, I kiss her nipples, running my tongue around each of them, making her tighten her grip on me. She reaches around to unclasp her bra, tossing it aside. I push my face into her breasts, making her laugh quietly and pull me back by the hair so that she can kiss me again.

I run my thumbs over her nipples while we kiss, feeling them harden beneath my touch much the way I've hardened beneath Bella. She responds by circling her hips, pushing down where I push up.

Watching her, lips parted, breathless, her eyes heavy with want for me. I flip her over again and reach back, yanking my shirt off by the collar. Bella pushes my boxers down with her feet, and I help her, desperate as she is to be naked. And then all's that's left are her little black panties, which I peel off.

And now I pause and look at her. She gazes back up at me, the features of her face illuminated by the lamp in my room.

Running my finger down her stomach, I follow its trail with my mouth, ending between her legs.

She groans when I taste her. Her knees try to clamp shut, but I hold them open and do it again, and again, until she's coming and crying out and coming, pulling my hair so hard it hurts. I'm inside her before either of us expects it, going on sensation and feeling, drunk off of the five senses of Bella. Leaning down, I kiss her ferociously, sliding my tongue through her mouth, knowing she can taste herself.

She is so wet, and so good. Her face, beatific, her hands, holding my arms. I thrust a couple of times before withdrawing, knowing that I'll regret it if we don't use protection. I just want to be with her, no worries, no stress. We have enough to worry about.

Her eyes seem darker as she watches me roll the condom on. When I'm finished, she grabs at me and places me back inside, wet fingers needy and sure. I'm as far inside her as I can possibly be, rocking back and forth but never enough. I cover her face in kisses, and then I lean to the side, toppling on to my back again so that she can ride.

This moment, burned incredibly into my brain: Bella, swaying above me, her breasts close enough to kiss, her hair backlit and aglow.

I don't deserve her, I don't.

She should have run and stayed far away, but she didn't. She could hate me right now, but she doesn't. And I'll be damned if I lose her now.

"Stay with me," I whisper, bringing her close, kissing. "Just stay."

"Yes."

* * *

**Under Your Spell - Desire**

* * *

_sorry for the wait. summertime - kids everywhere, all the time. THANKS SO MUCH FOR READING (and reviewing!) love._

_xoxo_


	18. Chapter 18

_**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**_

* * *

**big thanks to dovelove, and especially to imjaxbrokenheart, for helping me with all things legal/judicial/technical. you ladies rock. seriously.**

* * *

His eyes move back and forth between mine. Even in partial darkness, his face says so much; I wonder if he's trying to read me the same why I always try to read him.

And even after what we just did, his attention makes my heart flip...over and over.

He stares at me, swallowing, voice quiet when he speaks. "Did it hurt this time?"

"A little." I glance down at his mouth, his lips. "At first. But not for long."

Our eyes meet again, and he nods. His eyelashes are so long. Seems like boys always luck out in that department.

"Are you cold?"

I bring the blankets up higher, until only my eyes are visible. "Kind of."

Edward slips out of bed and shuts the window, which he tends to always leave open a crack. He adjusts something – the heater, by the looks of it – and then slips back in beside me. It's funny: we just spent the last hour in various stages of sex but seeing his naked ass...and everything else... as he walks around is what makes me blush.

"It'll warm up soon," he promises, running his hand down my back. I shiver from his touch, but it only makes me scoot closer, tangling our legs.

"You can warm me up," I say.

His hand pauses on my butt, and he smirks a little. "Yeah?"

I nod, and he pulls me even closer, turning me onto my side and kissing me. My nipples brush against his chest, and while the friction feels good it's almost too much. I slide my arm around over his waist, pulling our bodies completely together. His hand returns to my back, where he holds me just as tight.

This, right now: it's everything. I'd gladly live in this always.

After a while our kissing slows down, drifting to a natural stop. Pushing me on to my back, he drags his lips down my neck to my chest, where he kisses my breasts before resting his head. His hair tickles my face, and I wrinkle my nose, snuffling.

"What?" he laughs.

"Your hair."

"Sorry." He moves a little lower, holding on to me, and I wrap my arms around him, needing the way his weight pins me to the bed. It makes me feel safe, protected, loved.

The trees outside make shadows on the wall, swaying lazily in the wind. I watch them sleepily, running my fingers through Edward's hair. This question that comes to mind from time to time makes an abrupt appearance, and before I've really had time to consider it, I ask him if he's been with anyone else since we've been together. The second the words leave my mouth I want to take them back; I'm not sure I'll like his answer.

"No." He exhales, slowly. "Have you?"

_Of course not!_ I want to shout. But then again, maybe that's how he feels with regard to the same question.

"No."

He's quiet for so long I think maybe he's dozed off. It's certainly late enough. But then he rolls off to my side and looks up at me. "You did kind of a number on me."

I think about waking up alone, and crying on the plane.

I think about touching myself after lights out, fantasizing about Edward and resenting myself for it.

I think of feeling weak and angry.

Lying to Tanya.

Trying to lie to myself.

"Good," I whisper. "You did a number on me, too."

He climbs back up so that he's over me, arms caging me. "I'm sorry. I'll always be sorry."

"I know." Holding his face between my hands, I pull him back down and kiss him hard, and when that's not enough I wrap my legs around him, too.

I love having such access to Edward's kiss. Now that we've gotten this physical, I want to roll around and glut myself in him.

"Remember when you gave me that hickie?" I ask.

"Yeah."

"I liked it."

"I know you did," he says, automatically moving to my neck. "I liked giving it to you."

He starts giving me another, and I let him. Our intimacy feels different than it did before, probably because there's no expiration date looming over our heads. Before, it felt like we were living on borrowed time, on the inside of a dream. It made everything so poignant. It also made it painful.

It isn't that way now. This is my life, not some tropical fantasy.

And when Edward asks me to _stay_, I get the sense he means more than for the night.

I will stay. I'll stay until I can't, because I love him.

"I'm glad you were my first," I admit, my voice breaking.

I feel him smile, distracted from his mischief. He looks up at me, and there is so much love in his expression that even if he'd never told me I think I'd maybe know.

"I'm glad you're glad," he says, kissing my cheek. He lays down beside me, sharing my pillow. "That would be a shitty thing to regret."

"Do you regret it?"

"Being your first?"

I nod.

"No."

* * *

I wake up first.

It's gloomy outside; I know because despite the little clock beside the bed reading _8:47_, the room remains dark. My stomach growls, and I contemplate waking Edward so that we can get something to eat.

He's sleeping so peacefully, though, and I don't want to bother him. Instead I slip silently out of bed and pad over to my discarded jeans, looking for the phone I know is tucked somewhere away. I send Lo and Alice texts, letting them know where I am, and then I respond to a message from Tanya, who seems resigned to the fact I'm with Edward. She apologizes for being bitchy the last time we spoke but not for caring, and she warns me to watch it.

To say I'm surprised she's sorry about anything at all is an understatement. I love my sister, but she's quick to anger, and prideful. She hates being wrong and rarely admits to it.

Although to be honest, part of me wonders if she's wrong this time at all.

Minutes past, and then an hour. I've checked my emails, thanks to my phone, and, somewhat regrettably, gotten dressed. I like not having anyplace else to be, and I'd prefer spending the day naked with Edward in bed.

I'm human, though, and I'm hungry. I also need to use the bathroom.

Pushing my overnight bag out of the way and into a closet, I wander nervously out of the room and down the hall. Edward tells me his aunt and uncle know "all about me", but I don't know what that means, how deep that goes. I walk carefully down the stairs, not wanting to interfere with the quiet of the house. A quiet, rhythmic tapping draws me into the kitchen, where I pause in the doorway.

A slender woman with an auburn ponytail leans against the counter, typing nonstop. I watch her for a moment, coming forward only when my stupid stomach rumbles again.

"Esme?"

She startles, spinning around, pretty face lighting into a smile. "Bella?"

"Yeah..." Inwardly, I curse Edward for allowing me to do this on my own. "Hi. I'm sorry...I –"

"No, no, it's okay! I made tea. Do you drink tea? Or coffee? I was hoping you might wander down..."

"Oh, tea's great. Thanks." I nod gratefully, coming further into the kitchen.

"Is Edward up?"

"Um, not yet."

She nods, setting a teacup in front of me. After a moment, she adds a plate full of sliced lemons, a little tureen of milk, and a saucer of sugar cubes. "Not sure what you wanted...how you take it."

"This is great, thanks."

"No problem." She grins, sitting across from me with a cup of her own. "I'm surprised he's still passed out. He usually doesn't sleep too well."

Guilt and embarrassment swirl through me: the former because his sleeplessness might very well be due to his worry over me and the latter because I can't tell if Esme's insinuating I kept him up late this time.

"Would you like a croissant or something?"

"That would be great," I say, grateful.

Grinning, she stands. "I was actually waiting to make breakfast. Edward said you'd be staying with us...I wasn't sure what you liked. Eggs okay? Or..."

"Are you sure?" I ask. "You don't have to go out of your way."

"I insist."

"I like eggs."

"Hey."

I turn, looking over my shoulder to where Edward stands in the exact same spot I did minutes before. He's dressed in last night's clothes, pulled haphazardly on. He stares at me for a second, eyes dark and smudged by the circles beneath them. He looks almost haunted.

"Edward?"

Yanking a hand through his hair, he crosses the kitchen to give Esme a quick kiss on the cheek. I watch them exchange a couple of quiet words before he goes to the coffee maker and pours himself a cup. We don't speak when he drops into a chair beside me, stirring his coffee. Esme bustles around the kitchen, seemingly oblivious.

My stomach knots up. We were so close last night, and now... I'm not sure.

"I thought you were gone," he says.

I shake my head slowly, looking at the situation the way he might've. The empty bed and cold sheets. My bag, tucked away, easy to miss. The last time we were together that way he left me. And now...

"I thought you'd changed your mind," he says, his voice just loud enough for me to catch.

"No," I breathe, glancing over at Esme. She's doing her own thing, giving us privacy I guess, so I give my attention back to Edward. When I'd left in him bed he'd been peaceful. Now he looks cautious and wary.

"I thought you'd left me, like...I'd left you."

"I wouldn't do that to you."

He nods, sipping his coffee, but he still won't look me in the eye. And for the first time I realize that he's as affected by all of this as I am. I've been seeing myself as a victim, and I was. But maybe he was a victim too.

"_You did kind of a number on me."_

* * *

Esme is kind and generous, and it's obvious she thinks the world of Edward. Soon after breakfast, where we get to know one another a little, she disappears with her laptop. Somewhere in the house a door opens and closes.

Without the buffer of his aunt, Edward seems to have retreated back into his head. I don't know what to do with this version of him. I mean, I'm used to him holding his cards close, but this is different. He's acting like I've already left him despite that I've no intention of doing so.

I think back over the conversations we've had, and see that not once did I give him any guarantee that I was all in. I told him I'd stay, and I've told him – with my body as well as my words – that I cared a great deal about him, but maybe it isn't enough.

"Can we got back to your room?" I ask, putting my cup in the sink.

"Yeah. Do you need to do anything today? Go anywhere?"

For once, I don't. Shaking my head, I say, "No. I'll probably call Tanya later on, though. She knows more about Dad's case than I do, so...maybe she'll be able to explain some things to me."

"What kind of things?" he asks, leading me back upstairs.

"Like...what to expect. How much time we have before the trial starts and he has to go away." I say this as if it is a matter of fact...as if it is isn't tearing a hole inside my heart.

Edward reaches back and takes my hand.

Once we're in his room, I lock the door. If he notices, he doesn't say anything. He just sits on the bed, hands clasped in his lap. He does watch as I begin to undress though, eyes following each article of clothing as it hits the ground.

Stepping out of my underwear, I walk over to him and place myself between his knees. I run my fingers through his hair. It's darker than it was during the summer, thick and soft and different colors. Edward settles his hands on my hips, sliding them around until he's holding me. He draws kisses across my stomach, looking up at me when I shiver from it.

I push him back so that he's flat, and then I help him undress, too. When he's naked I climb on top of him kissing my way up his body. I love the way he feels, how he smells, how his hands clutch at me, how his fingers tangle and tug in my hair. We kiss, and he pushes up against me, trying to be inside, but I slide down his body so that I can put him into my mouth. I've been wanting to.

This isn't the first time I've given someone a blow job, but it's the first time I've actually enjoyed it. I guess it's true, that emotions really do play into pleasure. Because instead of being impatient for my own release, I find myself getting off on his.

I like the way he sounds, how his breathing quickens. How he touches my hair.

"Come here," he urges after a couple of minutes, pulling gently on me. "I want to come inside you."

I sit astride, rubbing myself against him, and he kisses me so hard he's almost biting me. He starts to push his way inside, but then stops with a groan. "Hold on."

"It's okay," I say, when I see what he's reaching for. "We don't need it."

"We do need it," he says.

"I trust you."

"It's not about trust. It's about being responsible."

"I've been on the pill for years. We won't get pregnant." I lean down, kissing each side of his face, his eyelids and his nose. I know that what he's saying makes sense, but I crave his closeness to the point of ruin.

Edward blinks, laughing quietly. "Yeah, Emmett and Rosalie didn't think they would, either."

I bat his hand away from where ever he's reaching, circling my hips against him until he arches up and grabs me.

"Why did you choose me?" he whispers suddenly. "Why didn't you tell me you were a virgin that night?"

I sit up again, remembering. Thinking about the night, and the things we'd done together...it always makes my heart beat funny. "Because I wanted you more than I'd ever wanted anything, and I thought you'd back out."

"You thought right."

"But why did it make such a difference? Were you trying to be noble or something?"

He shakes his head, closing his eyes.

"Because then...you shouldn't have wanted to sleep with me at all if that was the case."

"What we should do and what we actually do are usually two different things," he says. "I knew that getting involved with you was a bad idea...but I just..."

"Just what? Wanted a fuck?" I stare down at him, challenging him to just be real. He loves me now, but what was it back then? Was he giving in to his body or his heart?

"Not just _a fuck_," he shoots back, throwing the sentiment right back at me. "I could've had that with anyone. I wanted to fuck _you._" Holding my hips, he sits up and flips me on to my back. "You made it so hard to hold back, and I was tired of trying to stay away from you. I was tired of doing things because I was supposed to and not because I wanted to."

He's still and naked above me, body rising and falling with every breath.

"No one has ever made me feel as low as you have, and no one's ever made me feel as high," he says, leaning down to kiss me.

"You ask me why you," I say. "What you just said...that's why. The way you made me feel...I knew it was you."

I guide him inside, keeping my eyes locked on his. "It's okay. We're good. Promise."

He nods slowly and, hiking my legs up higher, starts to move: long, languid thrusts. Stretching over me, he holds my neck in one hand, tilting my chin up so that he can kiss my mouth, his tongue playing with mine.

I break away eventually, breathing hard. "I love you," I gasp, unable and unwilling to keep it bottled up.

He slows down, his movements faltering. "I love you, too."

"I've loved you since the first time."

He blinks down at me, frowning slightly.

I push his hair from his face. "What?"

"I think...I knew I loved you the morning I left."

Thinking of that hurts, but only for a second. The way he looks at me now, with reverence and affection, the way he holds me, is all that matters now.

* * *

Tanya doesn't answer when I call her. She hardly ever checks voicemail, but I leave a message anyway, following it up with a text message.

Edward spends the day showing me his new life. We take a long walk around the property, checking out Esme and Carlisle's garden and the places Esme often goes to write. When the gray skies turn wet and a cold drizzle starts to fall, we get into the car and drive around. Edward points out the restaurant where he works, and then we stop by Emmett and Rosalie's building.

Emmett's at work, but Rose answers the door, smiling. "Hey, you," she says, giving Edward a half hug before turning to me. "Hi, Bella. Nice to finally meet you."

"Hi, Rosalie. Likewise." We shake hands. She's so, so pretty. I remember her from the club, remember how consumed with jealousy I'd been for the handful of seconds I'd thought she was with Edward.

"You can call me Rose," she says.

I know she's pregnant, but it's hard to tell with the sweatshirt she's wearing. She'll probably be one of those women that looks beautiful even when she's huge.

"Can I get you anything? I just got all of these different hot chocolate flavors..."

"I'll take one," I say, giving her a little smile.

She grins, gesturing for us to follow her into the kitchen.

"I'll be right in," Edward says, staying behind as he holds up his phone.

The apartment is small, but cozy. Fresh flowers sit on top of the little table in the kitchen. I lean against the counter, watching Rose move around. She empties a collection of packets onto the counter, and I point to the salted caramel.

"So you're hanging out over here for the weekend?" she asks, glancing briefly at me.

"Yeah. For..." I don't know how long..."a couple of days, I guess."

"That's cool. I know Edward's been wanting you to come for awhile."

I see the smile she tries to hide, and it warms me. She knows Edward way better than I do, and has for a lot longer. I wonder what things he tells her? It's weird that she knows about me, and that she has since Miami...since before, probably. And that should bother me, should make me feel exposed, but it doesn't. I don't know why.

"I know," I say, after a moment. "It's taken me awhile to get to this point. I've been working through things."

"I feel you."

I stare at her, the way her long, blonde ponytail sways as she moves. "Do you?"

"Yeah. I really do. I wasn't always with Em, you know. Took time."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I know what it feels like to love someone but hate what they do." She grabs a spoon and stirs my hot cocoa before giving it to me. "Marshmallows?"

"No, this is fine. Thanks."

"No problem." She sets about making herself a cup, shrugging. "I just...I know what they did was shitty. _Really_ shitty. And I was involved and I'm sorry." She looks at me, blue eyes and huge and watery. "As soon as he started to have feelings for you it made it really hard to compartmentalize. Like, you weren't just a mark; you were a person." Setting her mug down, she scrubs her hands over her face. "Oh, my God. I don't even know what I'm saying. I'm sorry, Bella. I'm so sorry. I've wanted to say that to you for a really long time."

Stunned, I sit at the table. I didn't expect this. "It's...okay, I guess. I don't know. I didn't know what was happening until it had happened, and even then it took a couple months. I mean it's not okay, but I'm trying to understand. And honestly, I don't even know you." I sip my cocoa. "Yet."

She nods, sitting down. "I know. But I feel like I know you."

Again, I remember the night at the club, the way she and Emmett stood at Edward's side. I now know that they'd studied my family – and me – for months before Edward ever made contact.

There is so much I want to ask her, but I don't know where to start. And we certainly don't have the time for it today.

Edward walks in, ending our conversation. "Sorry about that. My job..."

"You didn't have work today, did you?" I ask, hoping he's not screwing things up just because I'm here.

"Yeah, but Jasper was supposed to cover my shift. He called in sick. Only Jasper, man..."

"Do you need to go in? I can –"

"Don't worry about it. I'll deal with it."

"I don't want you to lose your job."

"They're a dime a dozen."

Frowning, I shake my head. "They're not."

Edward and Rose share a look. I want to hate their bond, but I can't bring myself to. She feels more sisterly than anything, and from what Edward tells me, she and Em are two sides of the same coin. Still, it irritates me that they're obviously keeping things from me, that they have history and secrets and private looks. Taking a big gulp of cocoa, I stand up. "I need to call my sister."

* * *

This time, Tanya answers on the first ring.

"Bella?"

"Hey. I've been trying to reach you..."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I've been crazy busy with this paper and then...this thing with Daddy."

I shift on the couch, looking out the window and onto the street below. "Yeah. That's what I'm calling about, actually. You know way more about this kind of stuff than me. How long are we looking at, Tan? Before he goes to jail?"

"He has to be convicted first."

"I know that," I huff. "But let's be real. It's not a matter of if, but when."

She's quiet for awhile. "Yeah. I know. I just...I'm still trying to deal with it."

Tanya's always been the fixer. She's always been there for me, and hearing her sound this unsure and worried puts a lump in my throat. "Me too."

"We'll get through this. It's not like he's getting life, right? He just made some really shitty decisions and now he's paying the consequences. Same as he always taught us. You reap what you sow. I don't know how he missed his own lesson but...he did."

"He's not the only one paying," I say quietly, watching a little girl and her mother cross the street.

Tanya sighs. "I know."

"So, any idea on how long?"

"Well, you remember when Daddy went before the magistrate? When he got out on bail?"

How could I forget? The image of my father in that room, surrounded by his lawyers, as well as Uncle Riley and Uncle Marcus, is one I'll never forget, no matter how much I'd love to. I was so angry at him that day, and so devastated for him. As hurt as I am that he's been leading this double life, I'd protect him if I could. I'd hide him away, send him off – but I can't. There's nothing any of us can do.

"I remember."

"All right. So now we're in the pre-trial stage. The prosecutors are in prep mode, and depending on many counts they bring against Daddy, it could be a relatively quick process. Maybe. I don't know. I don't know everything he did, and it's not like he's ever going to tell us."

"I know." I chew my lip, wondering randomly if our phones are tapped. Is that complete paranoia? How deep does this go? "Listen, let's talk about this later. You busy tomorrow? For lunch?"

"Swamped. Can you do Wednesday? Early dinner?"

We iron out tentative plans, and by the time I'm off the phone, Edward's standing nearby, watching.

I give him a weak smile, putting my phone back into my purse.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine. I'll probably meet up with her Wednesday. We'll see." I'm tempted to bring Edward along on that date. He and Tanya each know things that could help the other understand this situation, and in forging a kind of truce, maybe they could help me understand, too.

He nods. Rose joins us, tugging on the hem of her sweatshirt. "Em and I will be over for dinner tonight. You sticking around?"

Unsure, I glance at Edward. He's got his hands in his pockets, but his eyes are on me. He doesn't say anything, but I hear his words clear as day.

_Stay._

"Yeah, I think I am."

* * *

***Locked Out of Heaven - Bruno Mars**

***Assassin - John Mayer**

* * *

**thank you so so so much for reading, and i'm sorry this took so long. **

**this chapter's dedicated to all of the amazing ladies i met at TFMU in Chicago last week. such a fabulous experience. i can't describe how exciting and special it was to be able to put faces & personalities to the names. we dwell in a pretty great fandom, guys.**

**i mostly especially want to give love to sildoc (silvia) for being my hosepipe girl and sharing her room with me...abadkitty (sara) for inspiring me and encouraging in ways i can scarcely communicate...maphie (mary) whose conversation, generosity and kindness moved me to tears...and sarah (****brodeurgirl30)** and erin (simba257) for driving me to the airport at an ungodly hour sunday morning. seriously. there are no words. thank you. times a billion.

_**so. much. love.**_

_**xoxo**_


	19. Chapter 19

**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

* * *

**EPOV**

* * *

Esme makes a mean roast, and tonight the house is savory with its smell. Bella and I offer to help with dinner, so Esme sets us up with wine and cheese to nibble on while we mash potatoes and saute vegetables. Her rapport with Bella is so effortless that sometimes they even leave me out.

I don't mind. I want them to be that comfortable.

Because frankly, I didn't consider the implications of what dinner would be like with Bella and what's left of my family. It isn't until we're seated at the table that I find myself anxious and vigilant, half listening to every conversation between every person. She likes my aunt and uncle. Everyone does; they're impossible not to. And she's all right with Rose. I don't know what they spoke about earlier, at the apartment, but there's definitely peace there. Maybe Rose sees something of herself in Bella.

Emmett and Bella, though, circle one another with mutual caution. Their interactions are forced and polite; brief. Maybe he feels guilty about what we did. Maybe Bella's intimidated by him. I just don't know.

After dinner, Carlisle and Emmett escape to the living room while Rose, Esme and Bella linger in the kitchen. I end up in the den by myself, messing around on the piano.

It's not long before Bella wanders in. She joins me at the bench, playing with the hair at the nape of my neck. "Esme said you'd be here."

Shrugging, I smooth my hands over my jeans. "She knows me well."

"Do I?"

I look at her, her lips. The way she bites them. "I want you to."

Nodding, she takes a seat at my side. "Are you okay, though? You kind of just disappeared after dinner."

I nod. "I do that sometimes – I'm all right. Are _you_ okay?"

"Of course." Her eyes soften, and takes my hand, bringing it to her lap. "Why wouldn't I be?"

I watch her closely, trying to get a read on her. "Being here, with Emmett. With everyone."

"It'll take some getting used to. But..." She rests her head on my shoulder. "I'll be fine. I'll have to be."

"You don't have to be anything."

"I do if you want me to stay, right?"

She's right. I do want her to stay, and I want her to want it, too.

Outside, rain pelts softly against the windows. Bella runs her fingers over the keys of the piano, pressing some of them. "I love being here with you. I love _you_."

I stare at her, relishing the way she makes me feel. I'd thought she was pretty the day we met, but now she's absolutely beautiful to me. "I love you, too. And you can talk to me. About anything."

She nods, her eyes straying to my hair. She's always touching it, which I like, but right now I need her to listen to me, so I grab her hand and hold it still, forcing her attention back. "I'm serious. You can tell me if Emmett makes you uncomfortable."

"Of course he does." She sighs. "There was a time when I was nothing more than a target to you guys. It's different with you, because I know you now. But I don't know him... and I don't even know if he likes me. Maybe this is as good as it gets."

Maybe it is, but I doubt it. I can't speak for Em, though, and I can't control him. I can only hope that with time he and Bella will start to see each other differently.

"I'm sorry," she whispers.

"It's okay." I lean forward, grazing her cheek with my lips. "I think...he's as uncomfortable as you are. You know? We've changed a lot since you first met me. We're still changing. If you'd told me, a year ago, that I'd be sitting here with you instead of working another con, I'd think you were crazy. Neither of us are who we used to be."

The rain's falling harder now. Dishes clatter quietly in the kitchen, punctuating the murmurs of Esme and Rose's conversation. Bella's hands are back in my hair, and this time, I reciprocate the affection, kissing her.

Later, I walk my brother and Rose to their car. It's bitterly cold out, the ground slick and wet. Em starts the car to get the heater going before tucking Rose into it, kissing her before closing the door.

"So is she okay?" he asks, nodding toward the house.

"Bella?"

"Yeah."

"She's fine. I mean, she's getting there."

"You know what you've gotten yourself into, right?" He leans against the car. "Her family...they're no joke. It's a big can of worms, bro."

Folding my arms, I nod. "No, I know. Doesn't matter, though."

He laughs quietly. "It does."

"No. It doesn't. I don't care who her family is. I love her, and she needs me right now. I need her. This is just the way it is. The way we met sucks –"

"To put it lightly."

"But it doesn't have to define us forever."

I'm being idealistic, but it's all I have and I cling to it.

Em glances down at his wife and smiles, shaking his head. When he looks back at me his face is open, and he ruffles my hair the way he's done since we were kids. "Nah, I guess it doesn't."

* * *

Bella's semester wraps up in a clusterfuck of finals and holiday mania. She immerses herself in it all, playing her part as a typical student exceptionally well. We try to spend a few nights a week together, but I see less of her than I'd like to. That's okay, though. If staying busy keeps her mind off of Charlie's case, then so be it.

Anyway, it puts me at ease knowing she's safe in class or surrounded by friends.

Meanwhile, the nights I'm not with Bella, I work late, sometimes staying after for drinks with Jasper. He says he's still pining away for Alice, but according to Bella she's seeing some guy from one of the frats.

"That's okay," Jasper says, when I tell him. "I can wait."

On Bella's last day of class, we get a phone call from Charlie. It looks like it's going to be a big Christmas for the Swans this year, with family flying in from all over.

Bella's silent for a long time after hanging up. When she reaches up to wipe her face, I go to her, kneeling at her feet.

"What's up?"

"It's just..." She sniffles, shaking her head. "I think they know this is Daddy's last Christmas for a long time. I mean his last one _out_. Regardless of what goes down, he's doing time."

I think of my own father, hidden away somewhere. Living the good life, probably, even if it is incognito.

"I'll take care of you. You know that, right? And you've got family. A lot of family. You're one of the lucky ones."

She nods, looking so damn mournful that it breaks my heart. Her heart is breaking right now, and there isn't a thing I can do. "I know it's not the same."

"No," she agrees. "But I'm still glad for it."

The door opens and in walk Lauren and Alice, talking nonstop the way they usually do. Swear to God, they rarely shut up. I like them more than I used to, though; especially Alice, who's warmed up a lot.

"Hey, Edward." She tosses her bag onto a desk. "How's it hanging?'

"I'm all right. You?"

"Eh. Been better."

Lauren rolls her eyes. "Her frat boy fucked some girl at last night's mixer."

Bella cringes in horror. "For real?"

"Yeah," Alice says. "Totally for real. Apparently it wasn't the first time, and you know I don't share. So. That's the end of that."

Jasper's goofy grin flashes through my thoughts. Clearing my throat, I look up at Alice. "You know, a friend of mine's been into you for awhile, now."

"Oh yeah?" she asks, arching an eyebrow. "Is it that blond kid? From the club?"

"Jasper. Yeah."

She nods, smirking. "Give him my number."

"Give it to him yourself." I pull Jasper's number up and hit send, tossing Alice my phone. Glaring at me, she presses it to her ear and disappears into the next room.

"Nice." Lauren nods, procuring a suitcase from beneath her bed. "Well, I'm gonna start packing. The sooner I can get home, the better."

"You driving?" Bella asks.

"Mhm. You staying at home?" Lauren's packing at lightning speed, folding clothes like it's her job. "Or with Edward?"

"Home. My whole family's gonna be in town until New Year's."

"No way," Lauren says, gaping. "That's great! Last time they did that –"

"Seven years ago. I know. Remember the snow angels?"

Lauren nods, and they smile at each other, obviously lost in the same sweet memory.

"They'll be here til New Year's, I think."

"I'll definitely come by." Lauren smiles. "That's awesome, though."

And it is. Thing is, I doubt the family is convening simply for the sake of nostalgia. The holidays are upon us, but so is the trial, and in the event that things go south, Charlie and his daughters are going to need all the support that they can get.

Plus, Bella's uncles mean more muscle. She hasn't said that, but I'm sure we're both thinking it.

* * *

"You know what I think about sometimes?"

It's late, and we're on the phone. I'd rather have Bella in bed beside me, but now that she's staying in her father's house it's going to be harder to do that. Rubbing my hand over my face, I close my eyes and envision her as she sounds, wondering if she's in bed, too.

"What?"

"The night you took me dancing. In Miami."

My chest tightens. "Yeah? What about it?"

"What do you mean?" She laughs a little. "The dancing. The _way_ you danced. I wish we could do it again."

"So we find a club that has music like that. We could go again."

"Really? I'd love that."

Memories of Bella pressed against me, our legs tangled on the dance floor, flood my mind. Remembering makes me a little hard, actually, and I palm myself, thinking of the little dress she wore that night. I remember it clearly – how she'd looked, how she'd let me kiss her.

The way things are nowadays, we rarely go out just for the fun of it. The possibility of finding a club downtown where I could take Bella dancing appeals to me so much that I slide my laptop closer and start googling salsa clubs, hoping to find something.

"Hey," I say eventually, interrupting what she's saying.

"What?"

"I found one. A club."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You could bring Alice, if you want. I could bring Jasper."

"Look at you, matchmaking," she teases.

"Just making my life a little easier. He won't shut up about her."

"Awww."

I snort, knowing that she wouldn't think it was so sweet if she knew what Jasper really thought about Alice. He likes her, all right, but it's pretty primal. "So, how about tomorrow night...you doing anything?"

"Nah. Just dinner with my Dad and Tanya. Tomorrow's good." She pauses. "In fact, maybe you could come early. Eat with us this time."

Now I'm the one pausing, considering the possible consequences. Sitting across the table from Charlie Swan, the man I've screwed in ways he can't even imagine? God, fate has a sense of humor. "Are you sure that's a good idea? Your sister hates me. And your father will, too, if he ever finds out who I am."

"He won't. And Tanya will be fine. Her boy's coming... I forgot to tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"Tyler. From Miami. He's flying in tomorrow."

* * *

Seeing Tyler in Seattle is surreal.

He blinks at me, seemingly stunned. Guess Tanya didn't mention me.

"Edward?"

"Long time, no see." I go to shake his had, but he pulls me into a hug, slapping my back.

"I wondered about you, man," he says, squeezing once more before letting go. "What're you doing up here?"

"Living, working...this is where I'm from, originally."

"No shit. Bella have anything to do with why you came home?" He gives me a knowing smile, elbowing me.

Thankfully, Tanya slips into the room, face carefully neutral. I have to give her credit – she's a lot nicer to me than she used to be. "Hello, Edward."

"Hi, Tanya."

Tyler looks between the two of us, something like wonder lingering on his face. "You didn't tell me Edward lived out here."

"Only found out recently, myself."

"Huh." He shakes his head, grinning widely. "What're the chances, right?"

Tanya stares at me, and for a second she looks so much like Bella it's startling. "I know, right? Anyway, you two ready to eat? I'm starving."

Dinner at the Swan's isn't that much different than it was at my place, except this time I'm the one who feels uncomfortable. There's a small part of me that wants to know Bella's father – even with all the legal shit that's brewing, she still looks at him like he hangs the moon. But I can't, maybe not ever.

Tyler, on the other hand, chats amiably with Charlie, whose predictably suspicious demeanor dissolves the longer they talk. Either they really do have a lot in common or Tyler's a con man of his own. It's amusing to watch.

I chime in just enough to be polite, but it's Bella who's got my attention, with her secret smiles and sideways glances. She's being unfair, and she knows it; now all I want is to take her to bed so I can show her the things my words can't.

The food's good, though, compliments of Tanya, and dessert even better. She'll deny it, but Bella made brownies just for me.

In a typical Tyler move, Tyler's rented an SUV to use while he's in Seattle. When we go outside, he tosses the keys to me and smirks. "Lead the way, local." It's a lot like last summer: the four of us, in one vehicle, headed downtown to go dancing.

Jasper is meeting us at the club, but we stop to pick Alice up along the way. She and the girls chat in the back while Ty and I catch up, making sure to keep our eyes open for _Havana. _I've never been, but in the end it's not hard to find. We luck out with parking, and before long we find Jasper, who looks like a kid on Christmas when he sees Alice.

Once we're inside, we have to battle the crowd to find a place to chill. It's dark, and so ridiculously packed, that I almost second-guess coming, but then a good song comes on. This time Bella's the one pulling me on to the dance floor.

She's more confident this time around. I realize how nervous she must have been around me before, back when we first met. Tonight, she follows my lead effortlessly, holding tight, letting me touch her the way I want to. We dance for hours. There's nothing better than seeing Bella like this, living in this moment, right now.

Losing my self to the music is easy.

Losing my self to her, even easier.

* * *

By half past three we're squeezed into a pair of booths at a late night diner Jasper suggested. Alice is practically in his his lap on their side of the table, and it's been long enough since we left _Havana _that neither of them can blame the alcohol.

"Guess they get along." I smirk down at Bella.

"Shh," she whispers, smiling. "He's totally her type."

"Obviously."

She pinches me, so I squeeze her thigh. We might be venturing into foreplay, but then our waitress reappears, asking if we'd like anything else. Jasper and Alice separate, but only a little.

"So, are we doing dessert, or are you too full?" Jasper asks.

Alice points at a leftover menu. "Let's share a mud pie, Bella."

Bella murmurs her consent while I slip out of the booth. "Be right back."

Outside, I round the corner to find Tanya, posted up against the wall, a cigarette dangling from her mouth. She rolls her eyes when she sees me, deftly plucking it from her lips. "Don't tell Bella."

"What?" I chuckle, lighting one for myself.

She sighs. "I only do it when I drink."

I shrug, pocketing my lighter. I only do it when the mood strikes. Sometimes that's all day. Sometime's it's not for months.

Tanya outs hers, dashing it beneath her boot. "I didn't know you smoked."

"I don't do it as much as I used to."

"Huh." She shivers, wrapping her coat a little tighter.

"Tyler still inside?"

She nods down the sidewalk, where Tyler paces and laughs. "Had to make a phone call."

I exhale, squinting at her through the smoke. "At this time?"

"East coast."

"Shit. Yeah." How quickly I forget.

"Listen..."

_Here it comes_. I toss my half smoked cigarette into the gutter and face Tanya, who's looking uncharacteristically fidgety all of a sudden. My mind's eye recalls the confident blonde from the beach, the knockout who _knew_ she was a knockout. That bravado has all but disappeared, and I suspect that this sober, direct version is the real Tanya.

"I really, really need you to treat her right. Okay? It's always been me. I've always looked out for her. But she has you now, no matter how I feel about that, and she's always going to choose you. I know that. I see the way she looks at you." Pausing, she lifts her eyes. "And I see the way you look at her."

I open my mouth to reassure her, but she barrels on ahead. "Thing is, though, you looked at her like that before. In Miami. And I saw it. I saw it and I told Bella to just go for it." She shakes her head. "You don't know how much I regret that. You...you broke her heart. I know you guys are working it out, and that's great. But just...don't do it again. Please."

"I've always looked at her like that because I've always felt like that. That hasn't changed." I shake my head, watching cars pass. "The only thing that has changed is I put her first now. She's not just the most important thing - she's the _only_ thing."

I guess she said what she had to say because now she's silent. We look at one another for just a moment more before she nods toward the door. "I'm freezing my ass off. Come on."

Back inside the warmth of the diner, I watch Bella smile at something Jasper's saying. Our eyes meet, and then that smile's for me. I sit at her side, and without a word she feeds me the last of her pie.

Jasper promises to take Alice home, leaving Tyler and I to drop the girls. I'd prefer spending the night with Bella, but that isn't happening now that she's home. Besides, even if it wasn't Christmas, her time with Charlie is precious. I can't intrude on that.

"I'll call you tomorrow," she whispers, kissing the corners of my mouth.

"Okay." I grab her and kiss her properly, getting off on the way her breath catches. She slides her fingers through my hair, kissing me back.

"Thanks for taking me dancing. I had fun."

"I did, too."

"I want to do it again. Maybe even just us."

_Just us_. If I had it my way, we'd spend the rest of our lives in a state of "just us".

"We will," I promise.

She shivers, so I push her toward the front door, left partly open by Tanya moments before. Smiling, she waves and then closes it.

Halfway to my car, I get a text.

_I love you._

I climb into my car, sending her something back before pulling away.

_I love you, too._

* * *

The proceedings of Charlie's pre-trial seem incongruous to the merriment of the season. Bella and Tanya decorate the house until it's dripping with Christmas, but it's obvious they're stressed out. Tyler decides to stay in town a little longer, which makes him lose his job in Miami. He doesn't seem too upset about that, though, and I have a feeling his stay might be a little more permanent than he and Tanya pretend.

By Christmas Eve, all of Bella's aunts, uncles and cousins have arrived. Some are staying at the house, but most of them are set up at a hotel nearby.

Seeing Bella with her cousins only perpetuates the weird Florida time-warp. I only meet them once, but the ones that recognize me from the beach freak out, amazed we ended up in the same place after all. I spend as little time there as possible, figuring Bella needs the family time.

I need family time, too, especially at this time of year.

Esme knocks at my door before opening it a crack. "Edward?"

"Yeah, hey. Come in."

"You okay?"

I give her a curious glance. "I'm fine...what's up?"

She sits on my bed, smoothing the blanket. "I've been thinking about you a lot. This is your first year on your own."

"Well, I'm not really on my own yet, am I?" I smile wryly.

She shakes her head. "You know what I mean."

"I think I'm okay. I have you guys, and Em...and Rose. Bella. I'm good."

"Do you miss your dad?"

It's taken me a long time to feel charitably toward him, but I do. "Sometimes. I wonder where he is these days."

"Would you ever go back to him?"

"No. He might not be living that life anymore, but I doubt he's changed much."

Esme nods, and though she tries to remain impassive, I can see the relief on her face.

Cold days grow colder, and we get our first snow.

Christmas comes and goes, and with it, most of Bella's family. Her uncles stay, however. I don't think any of us are surprised by that.

I'm at work one afternoon, getting ready to leave so I can pick Bella up, when she calls.

"Hey; I was just going to come get you."

"I know...but I couldn't wait. I had to tell you."

"Everything okay?"

"I don't know; I think so." She pauses. It sounds like she's somewhere busy, surrounded by people and cars. "They offered my dad a deal."

Ducking into the kitchen, I find a quiet corner. "What kind of deal?"

Her voice quiets. "How fast can you get here?"

"Fast. You're still on campus, right?"

"Yeah, I –"

"Wait there, at our spot. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Okay."

I hang up and clock out five minutes early, not bothering to tell my manager I'm leaving. Bella and I try to keep our discussions of Charlie quiet and in person, not trusting anyone or anything with the information we share. We never know who could be listening, and we both agree it's better to be safe than sorry.

Racing through traffic, I pull up to the corner Bella and I have designated as our liaison point. She jumps in, greeting me with a kiss as she tosses her bag into the backseat.

"Hey."

"Hey." She gives me a small smile and tightens her ponytail.

"Am I...dropping you home? Or –"

"Lo's visiting someone for the weekend if you want to stay over at my place for once."

Shrugging, I nod, and then turn in the direction of Bella's dorm.

"So...as you know, most of the crimes Daddy committed were here, in Seattle."

"Right."

"But the counts in Miami are like...way worse."

"So they do have enough evidence for that."

"Yeah."

That sucks. As far as I know, Charlie's going to have to do plenty of time if he's convicted of all the shit he did here. But Miami? He might as well have a life sentence.

"Well, the good news is that they're allowing him to serve a bunch of his sentences concurrently. And if he takes the deal, if he agrees to testify against the family that hired him in Miami, they'll shorten his sentence even more."

Stuff like this always has a catch. "What's the bad news?"

"It could be dangerous. He'd be in protective custody and we'd have to have special surveillance to ensure our safety."

And there it is. "Shit."

"Yeah."

Mind racing, I struggle and fail to come up with a response. I understand Bella's cautious optimism and her willingness to accept the risks; this is her father we're talking about. In the end, Charlie _will_ do hard time - even with concurrent sentences he's looking at eight to ten years. Taking this deal could change everything. But if snitching means putting Bella and Tanya in harm's way, I can't say I'm on board with that.

She grabs my hand. "Say something."

"I don't know what you want me to say. We can leave right the fuck now if that's what it takes. I'm not going to sit around and watch the two of you becoming targets –"

"We've _been_ targets, this whole time. You knew that even before I did."

"This ups the ante."

Nothing's happened since the run in with Jacob Black, and the lull has made me complacent. I think I thought we'd be able to slide through unscathed, but it feels as if that's about to change.

I've been so focused on wooing Bella, and on gorging myself on her love – her body and her heart – that I've forgotten my initial purpose: to keep her safe.

I want to be positive, to be strong, but right now I'm just as scared as she is.

* * *

Rose wipes the side of her face, leaving behind smudges. She's been tinkering with her new toy for weeks now, hoping to have it ready by the time spring hits.

I watch as she runs her hands lovingly over the body of her recently acquired BMW M3. It's bright red, and an older model. "Don't most mothers to be decorate nurseries?"

"Shut up, Edward." She winks as she walks by. "You know this was my first love."

When we met Rosalie Hale, she was a permanent fixture in her father's garage, and just as talented a mechanic as any of the guys working there. She was also, at age sixteen, the best driver we'd ever met. The Hales weren't too thrilled when their only daughter left the family business a few years later to work with us, but they've since mended the rift.

In fact, this car was a gift from her dad. It needed a lot of work, but the process is exactly what Rose loves. She's been working on it since the day it was delivered to Carlisle and Esme's garage, where she has plenty of room to work.

"At least it has a proper backseat." Emmett looks the car over, grimacing. "She almost asked for the Nissan...with the roll cage."

"I can install a roll cage in this."

"Yeah, okay." He snorts. "Who needs a baby on board sticker when you have that, right?"

Chuckling, I watch the two of them banter back and forth. They've always been this way.

My phone rings, and without looking, I answer. "Bella?"

"Hey. You busy?"

"No, what's up?"

"Can we meet up?" That's code for _we need to talk about things of a sensitive nature._

"Yeah. You want to come by? I'm at home."

"Give me a half hour."

Back in the garage, Em's ogling Rose as he pretends to listen to her prattle on about rear wheel drive and drifting potential. I grab the beer I've been nursing and head to the kitchen, where Esme's buried in a mountain of paperwork and a cup of tea.

"Bella's coming by."

"Hm? Okay." She gives me a distracted smile. No dinner tonight; she's at "a really, really crucial point", plot-wise, in her novel.

"I'll be upstairs."

"Okay."

Bella shows up way quicker than I'm expecting, bursting into my bedroom so abruptly the door bangs the wall. "Sorry."

"Forget it. What's up?"

"He's gonna do it."

My heart slams in my chest. "Okay. So what happens now?"

"Right now his attorney is negotiating the deal. They'll probably do the sentencing sometime next week." She drops into my desk chair, wringing her hands. "And then he flies down there to testify."

"To Florida?"

"Yeah."

"Wow."

She nods. "I know."

"What do you need me to do?"

"Nothing for now. Uncle Riley got in this morning, and a friend of my father's is going to be hanging out. Just in case."

"You ever tell your dad about Jacob?"

"I did, actually. He was livid. He has somebody tailing him now."

That makes me laugh. Charlie might have gotten himself into a mess, but he's no fool. Still, I wonder how many other dirty cops are in on this. How many other crime families and drug dealers and shady types are linked to Charlie Swan? Jacob represents a much larger presence than just himself.

It's hard to defend yourself from something you can't even see.

"Edward?" Bella's next to me now: cheeks flushed, eyes wide, lips trembling.

I pull her so that we're laying down, tangled close. "We'll be okay."

"Can I stay here?"

"Always."

"Tanya's leaving."

"What?" I pull back so that I can see her face. "Where's she going?"

"Off with Tyler. Daddy almost shit a brick, but even he realized it might be a good idea. I think they're going to see his parents in South Carolina or something."

"Maybe we should leave, too."

"We can't run away every time things get rough."

"This is more than a little rough."

* * *

Monday afternoon.

Bella's in class and I have the day off, so I'm taking advantage of the down time by joining Em and Rose for a ride in the BMW.

We hit a sharp corner and Rose shrieks with laughter, taking it like a boss.

I'm laughing too, but I'm also holding on for dear life. Seeing a car do this on TV and then being inside of one are two completely different things. If anyone can do it, though, it's the blonde in the driver's seat. We've been driving around Mercer Island for the past half hour, getting a feel for what the car can do.

Up front, Emmett's looking a little green around the gills. "I'm serious, Rosie, if we crash..."

Rose ignores him, drifting around another corner. Literally; she drifts. My stomach swoops.

I'm about to suggest she chill out, lest the cops are called, when my phone vibrates.

My girl's picture appears on the screen. "Hello? Bella?"

At first I can't hear anything. And then, voices.

"Bella," I say, louder this time, wondering if she dialed me by mistake.

But no; I hear my name, and then she's speaking to me, her voice trembly and breathless. "Edward."

"Where are you?"

"...you can...by...spot..." She's breaking up, and I can't tell if it's bad reception or something else.

"Bella!"

Silence.

* * *

**Lymbyc Systym – Pittsburgh Left (Eliot Lipp)**

**Ellie Goulding – Anything Could Happen**

* * *

******this chapter is dedicated to Tiffany McGowan ( MsTanywral). she's a sweet, special girl and a good friend, and her heart broke the day cory monteith was taken from us. hope you're having a better week, babygirl. much love.**

_**Truly, I'm sorry this has taken so long. I've been babysitting three kids in addition to my two (grand total of 5. five!) every day, so life is super hectic. also, i wrote a future take for Starry Eyed Inside and submitted it to the Fandom4LLS charity compilation. SO you can see where my time has been going. But thanks to everyone who was patient and kind and encouraging via tweets and PMs and FB. **_

_**me love you long time.**_

_**xoxo**_


	20. Chapter 20

_**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**_

* * *

"Would you like whipped cream on top?"

Suppressing a yawn, I nod slowly at the Starbucks barista staring expectantly back at me. "Please."

She whirls back to her coffee making duties, leaving me at the counter. As always, at least a dozen people are queued up behind me for their daily caffeine fix. It's a scene I've come to know well since starting college, and though I know the coffee is overpriced, I can't bring myself to deviate from my routine.

A paper cup with my name scrawled across appears seconds later, steam rising lazily from the top. Accepting it gratefully, I cover it and turn to go, mind already on the day ahead. Hopefully by the time I finish this grande cappuccino (extra shot of espresso, natch) I'll be a little more awake.

Normally I'm not _this_ exhausted, but school, along with late nights at Edward's, is starting to catch up with me. It's worth it, though. Spending time with Edward and his family has been a bright spot in an otherwise dim, scary time in my life.

So is spending time in Edward's bed.

Which, if I think about it, is the _real_ reason I'm a zombie this morning.

Somehow I get to class, having walked campus on autopilot. I sink into a seat near the door, enjoying the last of my coffee as I check texts and emails on my phone. A message from Edward pops up as I'm getting ready to put it away. Lowering my eyes to the screen, I smile when I see what he sent, now completely warm and wide awake.

_Love you. Come home soon._

* * *

One class down, two to go. Today's one of my short days.

After Edward and I got serious, I made sure to adjust my spring semester so that the majority of my classes were early ones. Some days didn't work out that way, obviously, and those are the ones that see me heading out around dusk, anxious to get home. Not today, though. I'm daydreaming about dinner with Edward later on when the abrupt sound of a harshly cleared throat interrupts my reverie.

"Ms. Swan?"

Pausing beneath a tree, I blink up at the tall, lanky blond in front of me. He's clean-cut and good looking, but not at all familiar to me. Nervous, I grip my bag.

"Yes?"

"Hi." Smiling, he offers his hand, which I take hesitantly. "Jamie Hunter. I'm a friend of your father's."

"Oh...okay. Hi."

"Charlie asked me to stop by and give you a ride to his attorney's office. We know it's last minute, but he has a couple of things he needs to go over with you before he goes into protective custody."

"I'm sorry; what?" I shake my head, confused. Daddy does has people keeping him safe, but he isn't supposed to go into protective custody for another week. And very few people know about that at all; something's off, here. "Let me call him."

"Oh, no, it's fine." He chuckles, all kind eyes and dimples, and pulls a badge from his back pocket. "You can trust me."

"I'm sure I can. But still..." Again, I reach for my phone. "I'll just –"

"Really, that won't be necessary. They've been meeting all morning...he might not be able to take your call as it is."

Pausing, I consider that my father really did have a meeting with his attorney today. Still, he always taught Tan and I to trust our instincts, and if anyone has cause to be paranoid, it's me. This _feels_ wrong. For one thing, next to nobody knows about Daddy's deal and that he's going to be placed in protective custody and then, probably, WitSec. He and his lawyer and have kept it specifically under wraps in the event some jackass tries "secure" his silence.

Kind of like this, actually.

Also, he'd never send a stranger, unannounced, to come scoop me up. This is like Kidnapping 101.

Stepping around Jamie, I retrieve my phone from my bag and dial Edward instead. Campus is busy right now, and a group of girls jostles by, nearly making me drop my phone.

No longer smiling, Jamie takes my arm. "Time is of the essence, Ms. Swan."

I pull away and start walking quickly, putting the phone to my ear. "Edward?" A sound like wind rushes over the line, following by voices. "Edward."

"Where are you?" he asks. I wonder if he can tell something's up.

Jamie appears in front of me, mouth set in a grim line. Not caring that I look like an idiot, I sidestep again and break into a jog, panting into the phone. "Are you far away? I need you to come, like right now. You can meet me by the spot." He'll know what I mean...I hope. There's really only one place we refer to that way.

Before I have the chance to clarify, Jaime rips my phone away. Startled by his sudden aggression, I take off, hoping I can get lost in the crowd. I think Edward might have been saying my name before we got cut off; I hope he was. I hope he realizes that something's wrong.

I'm tempted to find a bathroom to duck into, but something tells me that wouldn't deter Jamie Hunter, and even if it did, Edward wouldn't know where to find me now that my phone's gone. Glancing back, I catch sight of my pursuer. He's talking on a phone now – not mine – blue eyes burning back at me.

I know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that he's not the only one here to collect me. Panic prickles through my veins, and I slow down, not wanting to attract so much attention. People are starting to look at me strangely as it is.

Unfortunately, "the spot" is closer to what would have been my last class of the day, and that's nowhere near where I am. Tightening my grip on my bag, I continue weaving though the crush of students, grateful it's so busy. Had this gone down at night, I probably would have been screwed.

James never comes any closer, but he doesn't let me out of his sight, either. I hate that he has my phone; it makes me feel even more vulnerable than before. I wish more than anything I could call Daddy. The thought that something could have already happened to him is almost crippling.

My heart sinks when the spot comes into view. The street is quiet; there are no cars idling at the curb.

_Shit._

I have no idea where Edward was when I called, and now I'm wondering if he was farther away than I'd anticipated. Normally, he's at home or work, but sometimes he stays in the area – waiting for me to get out of school. Today, though...

Trying to catch my breath, I look around and realize I've lost sight of Jaime. In a matter of seconds he's disappeared into the slowly waning crowd, as if he was never there at all. And what's worse is that in a couple of minutes this area will be almost empty save the occasional passersby. Less people means less witnesses, making it easier for someone like me to be taken.

"Hello, Bella."

My heart trips, clenches. I'd know Jacob Black's voice anywhere.

I was so busy looking for Jaime that I didn't even see him coming, and I berate myself for it. His smooth, handsome face is calm, but his eyes are hard. He's also dressed in his uniform, and if I didn't know him personally, he'd absolutely be the type of guy that would make me feel safe.

But he's a fake, a fraud: a criminal on the other side of the badge. He smirks when I fail to respond.

"No hello?"

I take a step back, and he matches me, coming close as he takes my wrist. He brushes his thumb over the delicate skin on the underneath, his gaze traveling the length of me. I shiver as his eyes linger in places they shouldn't, remembering how badly he'd creeped me out last Thanksgiving.

"Well." He nods, eyes finally coming back to mine. "Silence is definitely something I appreciate. I'm hoping it's a habit with you...as well as Charlie. You know?"

Watching several cars pass, I twist from his grasp. "Get away from me."

Jaime strolls casually over, not looking the least bit winded or even irritated, and I feel like an idiot for having allowed myself to be caught in such a shitty situation. If they're this suspicious that Daddy might talk, then I have to assume that someone he trusts has screwed him. I'm beginning to wonder if anyone at all is trustworthy.

_Where is Edward?_

Every precaution he's taken over the past months mocks me now, and I see his worry about my safety through new eyes. He's going to freak out. He's going to –

"C'mon," Jacob says, taking my arm. When I try to pull away again, he only grips tighter, his fingers digging viciously into my arm.

"Where're we going?" My voice shakes so hard I can barely get the words out.

Ignoring me, he looks both ways before dragging me across the street, Jaime close behind.

Instinct kicks in, and I dig my heels into the asphalt, but Jacob just yanks me along. Jaime moves in, catching me when the sharp movements cause me to trip.

Classes are back in session, and as I'd feared, the street's now nearly empty. I can't be alone with these two; I can't. Dread washes over me, and I'm about to scream when the shrill sound of burning rubber shrieks somewhere nearby. Whoever it is is coming closer, and, hoping to God it's Edward, I let my knees buckle.

Cursing, Jacob hauls up. "I highly recommend you stop your shit," he hisses, tightening his grip around my torso. Jaime jogs past, opening the back door of an unmarked car. If they can get me in to it, I'm probably as good as dead.

There's no way I can get away from Jacob –he's way too big – but I can sure as hell slow him down. Screaming and struggling with all my might, I do everything I possibly can to keep from being dragged any further. Jacob grunts, slapping a hand over my mouth with enough force that my eyes water. My bag falls, half the crap inside spilling on to the damp street.

A bright red car slides sideways around the corner, smoke billowing from its tires. It rushes right up to us, slamming to a stop mere feet away, and then Emmett Masen of all people jumps out, pointing a gun at us. At least I think it's him – he's got a hoodie on, and sunglasses. He gives no warning, just advances like a man possessed, and I can feel in the way Jacob's body tenses that he's caught by surprise.

"Let her the fuck go."

Jacob loosens his grip some, but not completely. "You have no idea who I am."

"Come here, Bella." Emmett nods at me, beckoning with the gun. "Get in."

After a moment, Jacob releases me. Trembling, I move away from him, wondering why he or Jaime haven't pulled guns of their own. I can't imagine how this scene must look to witnesses, nor do I check to see if there are any. Grabbing my bag, I run to the car and slip inside, followed closely by Emmett.

I don't know what's more shocking: what just happened or the fact that Rosalie's the one driving. She throws the car into reverse and squeals back up the street, moving so fluidly that she barely switches gears so much as she flows into them.

Beside me, Edward stares blankly ahead, face drawn and pale. He takes my hand and squeezes, but he won't look at me.

I think, maybe, I know exactly how he feels.

* * *

Emmett, Edward and Rose descend into game plan mode. They toss ideas back and forth, making phone calls, setting things up. The three of them have history, and it's obvious by how they work together, deferring or speaking up when need be.

I stare out the window the entire way home. No cop cars, no suspicious looking unmarked cars. No one pulls Rose over as she speeds out of town and back to Mercer Island, driving like an extra from the Fast and the Furious.

The absolute lack of a chase only scares me more, and by the time we pull up to the house my stomach is in knots so bad I could cry. With the almost abduction, we've officially gone from the frying pan to the fire; all bets are off. Anything could happen at any time, and instead of waiting for my father to fulfill his obligations and then see him off to jail, I'm going to have to leave town like Tanya did.

I probably should've left when she did, but it's too late for regrets now.

It's hard not to have them, though.

After years of moving from one place to another, Emmett and Rosalie had finally settled down – only to have this shit blow up in their faces. The thought of their cute little apartment, complete with a nursery, sends pangs of guilt through me – they were never supposed to be involved like this. And even though they seem down for whatever, I hate that they've gotten dragged into my drama.

In the driveway, Rose reaches back to me, taking my hand. "You'll be okay. We'll be in contact."

"What about you, though?"

She shakes her head. "We'll be okay, too. This is...this is like old times."

It's not really. I don't think they ever participated in crime this violent or involved. But I just nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Thanks...for today. For everything."

"Don't worry about it," she says, shrugging. "It's what we do."

Edward and Emmett speak quietly to one another in front of the car, tense body language and expressions belying the seriousness of the situation. I approach silently, unsure, but Em squeezes my arm, his eyes examining mine. "You all right?"

"I don't know."

He shakes his head, glancing back at his brother. "That was some scary shit. You two take care of each other, okay?"

"We will." Edward gives him a long hug, and then they're off, reversing out of the driveway. I wonder where they'll go now, especially with Rose being pregnant.

Edward runs his hands through his hair. He hasn't said much since they rescued me, and though I know it's not me he's upset with, his silence is unsettling. Still, I don't have much to say, myself. I've never been this afraid in my entire life.

Inside the house, Esme gives me a quick hug. "Are you okay, honey?" she asks, voice wobbling. It's the first time she's ever been anything but mellow and smiling.

"Yeah." I nod, accepting the backpack she thrusts at me.

"Clothes," she says. "Some of it is stuff you left here, but I threw in a couple things, too. You might want to change... we're about the same size I think but these jeans are tight, so..." Stopping abruptly, she shakes her head and turns toward the kitchen. "I...I'm going to pack you two some food."

Slightly shellshocked, I stare after her. I can hear Edward in the kitchen, his voice rising in anger, and it guts me. In the bathroom, I change into Esme's jeans and a hoodie of Edward's. The reflection in the mirror is that of a different girl, someone haunted and pale. I stare for a long time, wondering if I'll ever get to know that girl, if she'll ever merge with who I really am.

Carlisle finds me in the foyer.

"Are you all right, Bella?"

"Everyone keeps asking me that." Scrubbing my hands over my face, I release a deep, shaky breath. "I don't know. No. I'm scared."

"As far as we know, they have no idea who we are, and this location hasn't been compromised... so hopefully we're okay for now." He gives me a rueful smile. "And Edward knows what to do from here on out."

Esme, who looks like she might have been crying, joins us. Edward follows behind, carrying a cooler. We make our way to the garage, where Carlisle gives Edward the keys to his black Mercedes S55 AMG. It's a newer car, and in mint condition. Most importantly, it has a full gas tank.

"Take care, Bella," Esme whispers, wrapping me up in a hug. She's stronger than she looks, and the fierceness with which she holds me takes me by surprise. Gratitude for everything – from the way she accepted me, to how she's supported our relationship, to the family dinners and hospitality – floods through me, making my eyes burn.

"Thank you so, so much, Esme. I hope we'll see you again...soon."

"You will, sweetheart."

Carlisle gives me a hug, too, promising he'll do everything he can on his end. I don't know exactly what that means, but it's somewhat reassuring.

Edward's eyes meet mine over the top of the car. I don't know that we _knew_ it would come to this, but somehow it feels inevitable. I climb inside, buckling my seatbelt as Edward adjusts his seat and then the heater. The rain started while we were inside and now it falls in earnest, beating against the windshield like tiny drums.

I watch Edward as he drives, watch the fine lines of his profile as he squints and frowns and relaxes. What would I have done without him? I see my life and the way it has unfolded over the past few months, and how different it would've been had I been alone.

He's so much more than the boy I met on the beach, so much more than the pretty face and the charming smile, the smooth moves and perfect words. I remember our first kiss, hidden in shadows on the beach, feeling like my entire existence had led me up to that point. I'd known, even then, that he was it for me, even though I'd had no concept of how deep that was ultimately going to go.

In the end, the deception that haunted our initial meeting doesn't even matter. Because in the end? He came back for me. He moved time and space the best way he could and he found me, risking my ire and hatred because his love was the for-real kind, the kind that lays down its life for that of another.

We pause at a stop sign right before leaving the island. He finally looks at me, eyes softening the moment they meet mine. "I'm sorry I wasn't there."

"You were there."

"I –"

"You got there in time." I level him with a look, unable and unwilling to listen to any self deprecating garbage. "It happened the way it was supposed to happen. They're not novices, Edward. We've been watching them, but they've been watching us. We knew this."

I can see he wants to say so much more, but he holds back. Instead, he glances in the rearview mirror, and then leans closer, kissing me. "I'm still sorry."

"I don't want you to be sorry anymore. About anything."

"Okay." He closes his eyes, smiling a little. "We're going to be okay. Whatever it takes...we've got this."

Something blooms inside of me.

This boy.

This one. He's it. He's mine. He's my destiny. I knew before, but I know it now, more than I ever have.

"I know."

He smiles, takes my hand, and keeps on driving.

* * *

We drive and drive, and drive some more; through night and day, and in and out of weeks.

It feels that way, anyway. Worried that we could be apprehended at any moment, Edward doesn't stop driving until the middle of the night, when we check into a little bed and breakfast in Santa Rosa, California. I want to feel safe, and I try to, but it's a long time before I manage to fall asleep.

And despite our exhaustion, we can't sleep late, either. Santa Rosa's a pretty little town, and I wish we could enjoy it, but that's not in the cards. We eat in our room, shower and dress, and are back on the road before the sun has fully burned through the fog.

Down the coast we go, stopping only when we absolutely have to. Gas stations, hills, valleys, highways, off ramps...it all merges into a never ending river of scenery I barely appreciate.

_"My legs hurt."_

_"So do mine."_

It means nothing; stopping wastes time and time is a luxury we don't have.

_"I'm hungry."_

_"I saw a sign for Wendy's or something...Subway?"_

Food is merely sustenance, and my prejudice toward fast food dissolves in the face of necessity.

Emmett calls as we drive through San Diego, intent on getting to Chula Vista before calling it a night. From there, I'm not sure where we're going. I doubt we're leaving the country or anything, but nothing's set in stone. Meanwhile, I'm so sore from sitting that I'm practically numb.

Dozing, I miss most of Edward's conversation until he awakens me by gently shaking my arm. "Bella. Hey."

I open my eyes, yawning at the glitter of lights outside. "Hey. What time is it?"

"About eight."

"Oh." Rubbing my eyes, I sit up. "We almost there?"

"Almost." He yawns, making me feel bad I didn't take over with the driving. "So, I spoke to Emmett."

"Yeah? He okay? Where are they?"

"He wouldn't specify, but he said they're fine. Still on the move, like us. We're supposed to meet our contact tomorrow morning. They'll have our passports and all that, just in case."

"Our _contact?_"

"Yeah."

"I never thought I'd see the day when your old life would come in handy."

"No kidding." He chuffs quietly, glancing at me from behind his sunglasses.

Closing my eyes, I think about Lauren and Alice. They're probably freaking out, blowing up my phone with calls and texts. We never talked about this happening, really. In fact, the one thing we _did_ manage to have foresight on was the money. Uncomfortable with the money being at my dorm all the time when I wasn't, Edward brought it to his house to hide weeks ago.

Now it's in my backpack.

"I wish I could talk to Alice and Lo. And my Dad." I pull my hair up into a messy bun. "Touch bases. Just to let them know."

"We'll figure something out," he promises.

After another half hour, we find a decent motel in Chula Vista. I've never been so far south before; we're practically on the border. The weather here is a lot different that what I'm used to, but I like it. I've had enough rain and cold to last me a while.

After bathing, I fall into bed, grateful we're finally out of the car. I'm a lot more tired tonight than I was last night, and I'm on the precipice of sleep when a freshly showered Edward joins me. Skin soft and hair wet, he lets his towel fall as he slides over me. For awhile we just kiss, relaxing into one another. Soon though, that not enough. He pulls my underwear down my legs and guides himself into me, kissing me as he does.

"I love you."

"Love you too," he breathes, holding himself up a little so he can look down at me.

I touch my hands to his cheeks, rough with stubble, and pull him down for another kiss.

* * *

We're awoken by brisk knocking at the door: a series of sharp sounds that pierce the early morning silence. Edward leaps quietly from the bed and peers out the peep hole.

"Son of a bitch," he breathes. "I don't believe this. I'm gonna kill Emmett."

Sitting up some, I wrap the sheet around my chest. "What? Who is it?"

He shakes his head, hesitating before glancing back at me.

There's another knock and this time Edward answers, keeping the door nearly shut.

A loaded silence ensues, and then someone clears their throat.

"Edward?"

"Hey, Dad."

* * *

**_song: Feel the Love - Rudimental_**

* * *

_*John 15:13_

_*Where the Wild Things Are_

_thank you for reading :)_

_xoxo_


	21. Chapter 21

_**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**_

* * *

It's as if time pauses for my father.

He looks the same as he always has; his hair's shorter, maybe, his skin a little darker from the sun. And yet, I've seen this version of him. I've seen all the versions, the disguises and personas. God knows who he'll be today.

"Can I come in?" he asks quietly, eyes flickering past to the room behind. I squeeze myself tightly into the gap the door leaves, uncomfortable with his proximity to my naked girlfriend.

"No." Shaking my head, I force myself to look him in the eye. "I'll come out. We can talk in your car."

"Don't bother. I have a room." Slapping a key into my hand, he turns and walks casually away, as if he's a tourist and not a con man knee deep in a job. "Come when you're ready, Edward."

Glancing down as I close the door, I notice a peeling _35_ on the key chain. I toss it on to the desk in our room, feeling both frustrated and relieved. Part of me has hoped I'd never have to deal with my father's antics again. He's arrogant and manipulative, and he's ruthless when it comes to his money and his relationships.

But he's also a professional. If there's anybody that can escort us through this shit storm with success and even grace, it's Edward Masen...the first.

Bella sits silent and still on the bed, waiting. I feel her eyes on me, anticipation and questions unspoken but tangible. She allows me to pace, knowing I need a minute to think about my next step..._our_ next step. It's easy to feel like every decision is the wrong one, and if I let it, my fear could incapacitate me. I can't let that happen, and because I'm still unsure of how to proceed I have to accept my father's help. Running my hands through my hair, I finally look back at her. "So, that was my dad. He's the contact."

"I gathered."

"Yeah. I guess..." Shrugging, I sit beside her. "This was Em's brilliant plan."

"Are you angry?"

"At Emmett?"

She shrugs, and then nods.

"A little."

"And your father? Are you angry at him?"

With a start, I realize I never really shared with her the details of my decision to leave my family. It's a difficult time to think about, for a lot of reasons, and I'm not sure it's something I want to revisit now. But then Esme's words about honesty and intimacy being closely linked echo through my mind. Bella and I are in this together – all of it. Mine, hers. Ours. She deserves to know, even the ugly bits, the parts of myself and my past I'd rather hide forever.

Clearing my throat, I slide beneath the covers. "My father and Emmett were the masterminds. Always. Even when Em was young he had ideas...insight. Dad was proud of him, and...they were good together. I was never into it the way Em was, but I liked being a part of it. We were a team. And as I got older and more involved, it became instinct to separate my real life to whatever job I was running."

This is where things get shitty. Anxiety grinds through my insides, making my chest tighten. Sensing the shift, Bella scoots even closer, resting her head on my chest.

"But it was different in Miami. _You_ were different. And then...I was different, too. Caused a lot of fights. Dad and Em wanted things done the way they always had been, but it felt wrong to just proceed like that. My heart wasn't in it."

She stays silent, hand, gripping mine under the covers.

"My dad wasn't always like this." I close my eyes, remembering sailing and sunlight. Being read to by my mother and tucked in by my father. Feeling safe. "I mean, he was always smart and shrewd. A hustler. But it was legit way back. This whole life of crime thing started after my mother died. He got caught up in the easy money and the traveling and then it was just life. That was it. You know?"

"Was he happy?" she asks. "Were you?"

"Yeah, I think so. For awhile. We had a lot of good years. And it was all I knew. The three of us were tight. I was home schooled, so my schedule was really flexible. I got to see all these cool places. Money wasn't a problem, and it was all good. It was easy to ignore the bad parts, and it wasn't until I met you that I realized I wanted something different. It changed the family dynamic, and it's what made me leave."

"And you haven't spoken since?"

"No. Em keeps in touch with him sometimes...obviously...but we're kind of on our own these days. He's retired anyway, so he tries to keep a low profile."

"Retired, huh? That why he was able to get here so fast?"

"Maybe. Probably."

We're quiet awhile. The air conditioning hums steadily, lulling me back into a sleepy state. I need to get up and talk to my father, but I'd much rather stay where I am, in the arms of this girl.

"You told me once that I wasn't the reason you left that life," she says. "That you did it for you."

"Yes and no. You were the start of it, the catalyst. I think I would've reached that point eventually, but it would have taken me way longer." Rubbing my eyes, I consider how things used to be. I've been out of that lifestyle for less than a year, but it feels like a lifetime. "I left because I didn't know who I was. I was becoming someone I hated, and worse, I was starting to really hate my father. I felt like the jobs were more important to him than we were, like the things I wanted didn't matter."

"Maybe he was just doing the best with what he knew."

Making a face, I lean away from her. "You believe that shit?"

"No," she laughs. "I think he's an asshole. I was trying to play devil's advocate."

"Don't bother." I place a quick kiss at the corner of her mouth. "But...I should go see what he has in mind. Any option, at this point, is welcome."

She turns her face just enough so that our lips touch. "I agree."

Before I can say anything else, she slips out of bed and heads toward the bathroom. She's got nothing on – not even jewelry – and while I may've known that, seeing her bare wakes me right up. By the time she returns, my sweatpants are on the floor.

Her cheeks color when she notices, and, smiling slyly, she crawls on to the bed. She kisses me all over my face, the tips of her breasts brushing my chest when she's so close.

Gentling her down beneath me, I cover her skin in kisses, thriving on her responses. She shivers and gasps, sighs and moans, whispering _Edward _and _come here _and _I love you_. When she reaches down to grip me, I back up, turning her onto her stomach. I pull only her hips up, and then I reach under, finding where she's warm and wet and slowly open. She inhales sharply, hands grabbing at sheets, her half closed eyes and slack jaw telling me she craves this just as much as I do. When she comes I replace my fingers with my dick. We haven't fucked like this before...it's deeper, primal and possessive, and the sounds she makes turn me on like crazy. I watch her eyelids flutter, how her cheek presses against the sheet. It's so easy to lose myself in her, to close my eyes and spontaneously combust from the way she makes me feel. Physical, emotional, spiritual: meeting my match hasn't been a fairytale, but a scratch to an itch, a piece to a puzzle, a salve to a wound. A necessity.

We might not ever return from this place, this part of our lives. It might be the end. It might be the beginning. God, I hope it's the beginning. Regardless of what it is, it's what we have...and I'll live it every day until there aren't any more days to be had.

Curving over Bella, I align my body with hers. We move together; I'm close. I kiss her. She doesn't so much kiss back as she breathes me, sound and air and life.

I give her as much as I take.

* * *

She's asleep.

I don't think I'll ever leave a room with a sleeping Bella again without thinking of the night I left her. The wound runs deep, a mental scar aching as a constant reminder to do right by her. Outside, the early morning sun swelters. I squint against the unfamiliar brightness, wishing I could just hide in bed like Bella. Making sure the door's locked, I pull my cap low and walk down to number thirty five, where my father's waiting for me.

He answers the second I knock. "When I said to come when you were ready I had no idea it'd take so long."

Entering the room, I lean against the wall, hands in my pockets. Like us, he's got the drapes drawn snugly, eliminating outside light and the possibility of prying eyes. "So what do you have in mind?"

"That's it? No hello for your old man? Well, shit."

"Hey Dad, what's up? You all right? Run any good cons lately?"

We stare at one another from across the room.

Scrubbing a hand over his face, he sighs loudly. "What do you want, Edward? What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to not be a dick."

"Well, it's a little late for that, so let me rephrase: what do you _need_? And are you going to get over your shit long enough for me to help you? Do you even want my help?"

"I need your help. Whether I want it or not is irrelevant. I hate that Em sent you down here, but I understand why he did."

"He didn't send me. I offered to come."

"Why?"

"Because you're my son, and I love you." He shrugs, turning to the Dunkin' Donuts bag on the nightstand. "Even though you make the worst decisions."

He's prodding sensitive areas, and he knows it. Unwilling to give him the satisfaction of an emotional response, I swallow back my irritation. "Like what?"

Chuckling, he takes a bite of his donut. "Like never get involved. That's what I told you, right? You and Emmett. Never get involved. You do the job, you get paid. That's it. So what do you do?"

"Dad –"

"You fall in love with a piece..." He eyes me, knowing not finishing the phrase, "...and now you're both screwed."

"You're oversimplifying things." Exhaling roughly, I shut my eyes. "As always."

"Nah, you're just complicating them."

"I regret nothing, okay? Bella and I have both made peace with the way we began and with where we've ended up. I love her, and _that's _what matters. If you want to help us, great. If not, it's been good seeing you. I don't have time to go over this with you. Not again and again."

"You –"

"I'll never have time," I say, pushing off the wall.

His nostrils flare. He's pissed, and I revel in it, enjoying that I'm capable of ruffling his feathers. For a moment he says nothing, finishing his breakfast in silence as I answer texts from Emmett and Carlisle.

"I have paper work for the two of you. If we decide to do this together, then the two of you defer to me. I'm not going to get caught and killed because you have 'ideas' about things. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Good. Meet me here at three o'clock. I'll have everything worked out by then." Taking a napkin from the bag, he wipes roughly at his face.

Nodding, I walk to the door. "See you then."

* * *

"It'll be okay."

Bella gives me a look. "He hates me."

"He doesn't hate you. He hates what you represent."

"I hate him, too, so. Whatever."

But _whatever_ isn't what's written all over her face. I know this shit stresses her out. It stresses me out, too.

"Let's go," she says, almost pleading.

Nodding, I follow her out the door. It's even hotter now than it was earlier, and I can only imagine how it must feel during the summer. Gangly palm trees line the parking lot to my left, dappling the parking lot with shadows. We're in front of number 35 before I'm even ready. Knocking loudly, I ignore the urge to grab Bella's hand, not sure if she's in the mood. She can be stubborn, and I suspect she wants to face my father on her own – even if I am right at her side.

The door swings open. Edward Sr sweeps his hand dramatically, welcoming us into his room. The bed's unmade, the desk covered in paperwork. The drapes are drawn tightly, keeping out the heat and sunlight, but every lamp in the place is on, casting the room with garish, artificial light.

"All right. Here you go...my son, and my daughter in law."

Frowning, I take the stack of papers he gives me. Actually, there are two stacks; one for Bella, and one for me. Inside I find falsified documents of every kind – a birth certificate, social security card, driver's license, passport...

"Amun and Kebi?" I ask, glancing over my passport. "Our names are Amun and Kebi?"

"Yeah." He shrugs, popping a cigarette into his mouth. "Why not?"

"That's...where did you get these names?"

"The guy's an Egyptian national, all right?"

As if that explains anything. I glance at Bella, who's trying not to smile. "Who's Egyptian?"

"The guy who made these," my father explains patiently, leaning against the desk. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. The chances of you two being stopped are slim to none. This is just insurance."

Bella moves to my side, her bare arm brushing mine. "So what's the story, exactly?"

"We're photographers. And the goal is to make it back to Florida within a week. We have a boat to catch."

I should've known we'd be sailing – of course he'd default to this modus operandi. "Going where?"

"Caribbean for now. According to Emmett, you have to get lost, not stay lost, right? You should be able to go home eventually."

"If they catch Jacob," Bella says, tucking her papers into her bag. "And Jamie, and whoever else is involved in this."

"Oh, they will," Dad assures her, unlit cigarette bobbing between his lips. "They always do."

"They never caught you." Her voice catches as she makes eye contact with him.

Eyes narrowed, he nods. "You're right."

With that, he snatches a lighter off the nightstand and heads onto the balcony out back. Bella turns to me, tangling her fingers in mine. "Do you think it's going to work?"

"Yep."

She's not expecting that; her eyes widen. "Yeah? How can you be so sure?"

"You said it yourself." I glance out at where my father stands smoking, the outline of his body silhouetted against the glaring sun. Everyone says I'm built just like him. "He never gets caught."

Waiting until he comes back inside, we go through my stack of papers, commenting on the details. Most of it is us – it's easier to lie when what we're telling is mostly the truth. But other things, like our names, social security numbers and birth places, are different, hopefully rendering us untraceable. Bella maintains a grudging respect for the quality of work, but none of it surprises me. There is no con man quite like my father. He works this stuff like it's his job...because it _is_.

Eventually the sliding glass doors open, letting in a rush of warmth along with Dad. He clears his throat, looking at Bella.

"You sure you're ready to do this?"

"I don't have much of a choice, do I?" she says.

Smirking, he comes closer. "We always have choices."

"Yeah, live or die. Like that's a choice."

There's an awkward silence, and then my father folds his arms.

"Do we need to clear things up? We're going to be spending a lot of time together, Bella."

I'm between them before Bella even has the chance to respond. "Fuck off, Dad. No one's in the mood."

"Don't be rude, Edward."

"I mean it."

From behind me, Bella touches my back. "Edward."

All I see is my dad. We are the same height. He has green eyes bracketed gently by crow's feet and cheeks reddened from the sun. Freckles across his nose and a smirk that rarely fades; a face women love. I recognize myself in that face – it's a miracle I don't resent what I see in the mirror every day. But maybe that's why I'm so conflicted when it comes to him. So much of me comes from him – physical attributes, but aspects of my personality as well.

There was a time when emulating him appealed to me, but now I run from it. And I'll do whatever I can to keep Bella from it, too. If I'd had my way, the two would never have met.

"I think my question was merited." He clears his throat, looking pointedly over my shoulder at Bella, who returns to my side and takes my hand. "If there are things we need to get off our chests I suggest we do it now."

"Everything has to be on your terms, right? We're doing this because we have to. We're grateful for the help, but don't think for a minute that everything's all good between us because it's not."

"Why exactly are you so angry?" he asks.

I search my father's eyes, looking for some semblance of the man he used to be, years and years ago, when I was a kid. He's hardened over time – calcified – and I find it's hard to empathize with someone seemingly incapable of feeling empathy themselves.

"I can't talk about this right now."

"Edward." Bella squeezes my hand. "Just...tell him."

_Well, shit._

"I feel like you used me. My feelings always came second. It was always about the job, the money, and never about just living. Every day was work, and every day I wondered if I was going down the right path." My heart starts to race, fueled by the adrenaline of confrontation. "And when I felt like backing out of the job with _her_ you forced me to continue. I lost a part of myself, Dad. You'll never know how badly you hurt me. How badly _I_ hurt _myself_ with that shit."

The ensuing quiet is so long. Sighing heavily, he nods once before looking away. "All right."

"All right what?"

"I deserve that."

I'm so amped up I'm shaking, ready to do this, but he's conceding. I don't even know what to do with myself. Swallowing, I force myself to chill. "What time do we leave?"

"Midnight."

* * *

I feel guilty keeping Carlisle's car for so long. If we were closer, I'd leave it someplace safe for him to pick up, but we're about as far away as we can get. Before leaving the motel, he reassures me over the phone that I can just return it when we come back for good.

"I knew what I was doing when I gave it to you, Edward."

"Well...thanks. I'll take good care of it."

"Just take good care of _you_. And Bella."

He also assures me that there haven't been any signs of trouble. No strange faces in the neighborhood, or phone calls in the middle of night. Well, except for mine.

Satisfied that things are as good as they can be for now, we leave the moderate safety of Chula Vista for the uncertainty of the road. The cozy lights of all night diners and gas stations give way to a night so dark it swallows near everything. Except for the occasional car or truck, there's nothing but the twin glow of my father's taillights as we ride the highway, heading slightly northeast.

California fades into Arizona.

My stomach flips when we pass the sign. We're doing this...getting lost. On purpose. It's freeing, but it's also scary. Again, I'm glad my father's at the helm.

Thanks to another nap back at the motel and several cups of expensive, high octane coffee, Bella's just as awake as I am. She keeps me company in the darkest times; I'm beginning to see this as a metaphor for our life right now.

"Thanks for staying up." I force down a yawn. Once they start, they don't stop, and we have a ways to go before parking up to rest.

"Of course," she murmurs. "I want to."

"You're tired."

"We're both tired. Anyway, I have this...thing about passing out in the car at night. A couple of kids form my high school died that way, when the driver fell asleep and went off the road. I just..." From the corner of my eye, she shakes her head. "It stuck with me. It was probably really peaceful and quiet, like this. Everybody dozed off, until eventually the kid driving dozed off, too."

I've heard about similar stories, but it's always worse when you know the people involved, know the details and time frames. "Damn. You knew them?"

"One girl. She was in Spanish with me."

I nod, following Dad into another lane to pass a semi. We fall into another silence. Bella reaches forward to fiddle with the radio. Carlisle's got both a CD player and an iPod hookup, but Bella insists there's something classic about paying homage to local stations during road trips.

"We used to travel during the holidays a lot," she says, pulling her hair into a ponytail. "Daddy, me and Tanya."

"Where would you go?"

"My family takes turns, so if we weren't hosting Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner, then Uncle Riley was...they used to live in Seattle, but moved to Portland. It sucked having my cousins so far away, but the road trips kind of made up for it. Daddy made it fun, you know? Crazy music and playlists...we'd make up stories about people we saw in other cars...stop at interesting looking truck stops and shops along the way...it was never just about getting there." She pauses, and I don't have to look at her to know she's trying not to cry. "I have a lot of pictures."

"Show them to me some time?"

She nods. "For sure."

Hours pass to a litany of songs: Mariachi, country, 80's pop. There's a random talk show about sci-fi movies from the seventies, and then another arguing the merits of organic backyard farming. Bella snorts at something the over zealous woman says, which triggers a laugh from me. Within seconds we're hysterical, delirious from stress and a lack of sleep and the craziness of our situation.

But it feels good to laugh. Really, really good.

The reception crackles and fades, and we find something new. Music again, thankfully.

Up ahead, the first blush of dawn begins to hint its way across a desolate horizon. It deepens as the minutes tick by, until the sky is ablaze in color. I find my phone and call my father, asking if we can pull over at the next stop.

"You okay?" he asks.

"Yeah. You see the sky?"

"It's all I see."

I'm about to hang up when he clears this throat. "Remember Virgin Gorda? On your fifteenth birthday?"

Something inside breaks. Melts. "I remember."

"That was some sunrise."

I can feel Bella's eyes on me. "Yeah...it was."

"All right. Turning off here."

"Okay."

Bella leans forward to rustle though her bag. "We should take pictures."

"We will."

* * *

_**Spectrum - Zedd**_

* * *

_thanks everyone for your patience and encouragement! days seem short; life is busy!_

_much love to you._

_xoxo_

_ro_


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